


A Long Way Down

by marmorashadows (orphan_account)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Body Horror, Bullying, Car Sex, Coming Out, Creepy, Demons, Established Death, Everybody lies, First Time, Ghosts, Gore, Horror, I promise, M/M, Murder, Possession, Previous Relationship, Secret Relationship, Secrets, Slurs, Trans Keith (Voltron), Vaginal Fingering, Violence, Webcams, Witchcraft, Witches, and everyone has something to hide, background plance, everyone's secrets are slowly being dragged up, i'm sorry to all lance stans everywhere, seances, there are imagery of cut wrists in the first chapter but it's not what you think
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-06-09 15:03:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 32,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15270069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/marmorashadows
Summary: Takashi Shirogane is perfect – perfect hair, perfect teeth, perfect grades, perfect life. He's as popular as he is strong with a heartbreaking smile and charming good looks.Takashi Shirogane is going to die by the end of the year.-- an au where Keith can speak to spirits and foresee death. When he sees the death of his ex-best friend, he will do anything to keep him alive, despite all of the secrets and bitterness between them.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Full Title: A Long Way Down (to the Bottom of the River)
> 
> I have a lot of love for horror fics. Please read and mind the tags as I tend to update them as I write. I hope you enjoy this as much as I have enjoyed writing it :)

“Go, Lions!”

The playful cacophony filled the gymnasium in a roar, filling Keith’s ears, and mingling with the blood rushing and flooding. Keith sat at the top of the bleachers, sketchbook resting on drawn up knees and ripped jeans, while his fingers drummed restlessly. The excited crowd reminded Keith of a feral cat fight – the same violent energy existed beneath the surface.

Head cheerleader, Allura Altea, danced around the floor, pepping the crowd further. The noise grew like a wild monster until it felt like only white noise and then sudden silence when the football team rushed into the gym. Except, the perceived silence was just Keith’s ears retreating in self-defense.

Or maybe it was the looming shadow.

Takashi Shirogane. Fellow senior. Captain of the football team. Golden boy. Smart. Honor Roll.

Perfect.

Keith sank further down against the wall when Shiro went to the podium and pulled the hood of his jacket low over his head.

“Hey, Garrison High, how’s it going?” Shiro asked into the microphone. Nervous.

The crowd screeched their response but Keith focused on Shiro’s hands. They ticked nervously on the podium base. Keith could see the fear in his eyes. He knew the telltale signs – Shiro had always been easy to read.

“That’s great. This year’s Homecoming, we’re going to wipe the floor with the Galra Devils and as long as we can raise enough money, the dance is set for Saturday. So far, the fundraisers are going _great_ , so don’t pitter out, okay? We want this year to be amazing,” Shiro continued before stepping back away from the podium.

The speech was short, simple – probably hastily written in the first floor’s boy’s bathroom post a few hits of weed. Even writing speeches made Shiro nervous.

A dark shape moving off in Keith’s peripherals made him turn his head in alarm but it was just Pidge, coming to join him at his side. She looked more than annoyed but not more than the usual. Neither of them wanted to be anywhere near pep rallies or the student body in general.

“There goes Shirogane again, spouting off at the mouth, gaining followers faster than he gains good grades,” Pidge muttered darkly as she leaned back against the wall with Keith.

Keith turned his eyes back on Shiro and saw the shadow come in closer, wrapping tendrils around Shiro’s throat and chest. He shut his eyes. “You really hate him,” he remarked slowly, turning his eyes to the sketchbook in his lap. The page was blank.

“Don’t you?” Pidge retorted with a snort.

Keith slowly turned his eyes to Takashi Shirogane where he stood with his football player friends. Sunlight streamed in through the windows behind Shiro, haloing his brown hair and setting it aflame. His perfect smile and perfect teeth and perfect shoulder width. Despite wanting to hate Shiro with every fiber of his being, Keith could never quite reach the same level of hate Pidge seemed to exist in.

“No,” he admitted quietly, his pencil slipping across the page as he shaped out Shiro’s head. The shadow grew.

“Seriously, how come _he_ gets to be the Chosen One?” Pidge asked, the eyeroll audible in her voice. “What makes him so special anyway? He can throw a ball and cheat his way to straight A’s, who cares?”

Keith’s pencil slipped and a line slashed across the stat of Shiro’s eyes which was almost appropriate considering the shadow coiling around his face now. Keith knew for a fact Shiro did not cheat to earn straight A’s and he also knew for a fact Shiro hated playing football. He hated sports and he hated the idea of going to an Ivy League school to appease his parents.

Takashi Shirogane had a lot of secrets and Keith knew every last one of them.

“He doesn’t cheat,” Keith said flatly.

“How do you know?”

The question, innocent in nature, grated across Keith’s ego and left him scraped and bruised. Ten years he’d known Shiro – been friends with Shiro. Ten years of his life, after being the new kid, after the sleepovers, Boy Scouts (a brief foray), shared classes, study sessions, and birthday parties, they were no longer friends.

One summer.

One mistake.

And no one even remembered them as friends because he’d always kept Shiro’s secrets close to his chest.

“Keith?”

The shadow choked Shiro’s neck and Keith watched his face decay. He blinked and the vision went away and the shadow retreated. A crow passed outside the window.

“Keith!” Pidge reached to wrap her hand around his wrist.

The touch startled him back to reality. The page in his sketchbook was now full of scribbles from his frantically flicking wrist, now stilled by Pidge’s hand. He hadn’t even realized he’d been twitching.

“Are you okay?” Pidge asked while everyone around them cheered for the dance squad’s performance.

The question was simple but the answer was complicated. No one ever wanted the truth anyway and Keith couldn't give the truth even if he wanted. Another secret held close.

He opened his mouth to answer when a shimmer in the gymnasium corner caught his eye. Shiro now sat with his friends and behind him stood a waterlogged boy, his skin gray in pallor and covered in a slimy film. One of his eye sockets was a simply a black hole where an eyeball should have been, and his clothing muddy with rips and tears. Water dripped from the boy in copious amounts, coating the bleachers, the gym floor, and Shiro’s pants.

“Keith!” Pidge shook him then and Keith started, looking at her in alarm. “Are you having a seizure? Should I call someone?”

“No,” he whispered. He whipped his gaze back to Shiro but the boy was gone. “I thought I saw someone.”

“Who?”

He shook his head and the final bell rang to release them. “No one,” he replied.

The crowd dispersed from the gymnasium and Keith followed the throng out to the parking lot. Pidge walked alongside him, talking about her new laptop, but he was only half listening.

His mind was preoccupied with what he’d seen in the gym. The boy. The shadow wrapping around Shiro’s body.

He only pulled out of his thoughts when he saw a group of kids standing around his car. Excusing himself to the front, Keith froze when he saw what they were staring at. His heart stopped.

“Well, that’s not something you see every day,” Pidge remarked but Keith could hear the panic beneath her attempt at casual.

A dozen dead birds surrounded Keith’s car. Two crows rested on the hood, while other smaller robins, jays, and sparrows sprawled around his car in a seemingly random formation. Cold slithered down Keith’s spine and settled at the base, pulling his lumbar tight.

“So… How do you suggest we get those off of your car?” Pidge whispered while the muttering crowd dissipated to spread rumors faster than venereal disease.

Keith shuddered and went around the back to pop the trunk and grab a trash bag he kept there for cleaning out his car when it became too messy. Wrapping his hand in the plastic, Keith gathered the two crows and then the smaller birds until they were all wrapped in a plastic coffin. The bag weighed heavily in his hand while he put them in the trunk and climbed in behind the steering wheel quickly. The heated leather burned and bit his palms but Keith continued white knuckling, his breathing coming in too fast.

Pidged eased in beside him and rolled her window down. “Sure you can drive?”

 _No_. “Yeah.”

“Sure you _want_ to drive?”

 _No_. “Yeah.”

“Take me home?”

Keith nodded. Having a task to do kept him focused. The Holt’s lived in a fancier private neighborhood, not even a few doors away from the Shirogane’s. Pidge never mentioned her money or flaunted it in his face but Keith always felt smaller when he parked at the curb in front of the Holt’s house.

“Swear, this year, I’m getting my license and a car,” PIdge swore. The same mantra she uttered whenever Keith had to take her home.

“It’s fine,” he replied. Always his reply.

Keith’s gaze drifted to the Shirogane’s house and noted Shiro’s black Jeep parked beside his mother’s equally black BMW. A flock of crows gathered over the hood and roof of Shiro’s car. Keith squeezed his eyes shut and begged them to go away.

“Not him,” he whispered.

“Not who? Keith, seriously, you’re freaking me out,” Pidge said as she stared at him down in confusion.

When Keith opened his eyes again, the waterlogged boy rested in his backseat. They made eye contact in the rearview mirror. A new wave of cold settled over Keith’s shoulders until his teeth chattered.

“You have to go,” he said – to Pidge or the specter, he wasn’t sure.

“Okay,” Pidge said slowly. “Are you going straight home?”

Keith dared to look at the specter in the mirror again. “Yes.”

“I’ll call you in twenty. If you’re not at home, I’m going to drag Matt to help me look for you.”

Keith nodded and Pidge eased out of the car reluctantly. Once Pidge was inside, Keith turned in his seat but the boy was gone. The sound of his heart thudding in his ears made his head hurt but the specter was gone. The bird’s on Shiro’s car were not.

He made to pull away but the sight of Mrs. Shirogane leaving drew his attention. She walked up to the BMW and the crows turned their heads in unison to watch but she paid them no mind. She couldn’t see them – only he could.

Harbingers.

The birds always signaled death.

Mrs. Shirogane left the driveway and Keith made a rash decision to climb out of his car and cross the street. The crows all watched him, their feathers covered in grime and smelled of rot. Keith covered his nose and warily approached the front door. He hadn’t been to this front door in a year.

 _Stupid_.

Keith rang the doorbell.

For a moment, there were no signs of life inside and Keith began to go through a litmus list of where Shiro would be when his car sat in the driveway. He was seconds from walking away when the door yanked open and a flushed Shiro stood on the other side.

“Keith,” he said in surprise. His eyebrows rose to meet his hairline to match his tone.

“Hey.”

“What are you doing here?”

An excellent question and one Keith wasn’t sure how to answer. The crows loomed behind him, an omen unseen by Shiro. How did he tell his ex-best friend he was going to die?

“I was in the neighborhood,” Keith said slowly to stall and collect his bearings. “Dropping Pidge off.”

“You need to leave,” Shiro said sharply. “I have company.”

A flash of dark hair and skin filled Keith’s mind. The smell of suntan lotion and lavender. White smiles and bright, blue eyes.

Allura.

The rumor mill had been aflutter over Allura and Shiro lately. Potential Homecoming King and Queen. A popular, power couple but Shiro was full of secrets only Keith knew.

“Hope you bought condoms,” he said, even though what he’d meant to say was, _I miss talking to you_.

Shiro’s face wrinkled in anger and he shut the door firmly in Keith’s face. The sound reverberated around the quiet neighborhood his family would never be able to afford. Keith slowly walked back to this car, ignoring the silent crows, and wishing he knew how to tell Shiro the truth.

Takashi Shirogane had a lot of secrets but so did Keith.

The waterlogged boy returned to Keith’s rearview when he used Pidge’s driveway to turn around. Cold, slimy fingers brushed the back of his neck and he shuddered.

“Go away,” he whispered. They hadn’t been friends in life and certainly weren’t in death.

 

 

> _No_.

Keith shook himself off and floored it back toward his house on the east side of town. The houses grew smaller and more sparse the further he drove out. Suburbs turned into the country back roads and the area quickly turned poorer the further he drew away from Garrison High. He purposefully kept his eyes on the road ahead and not in the backseat. The car’s interior felt like ice despite the windows being rolled down and the air conditioning being broken.

The specter’s fingers wrapped further around his neck.

 

 

> _Tell the truth_ , the specter whispered.

He dared to look the boy in the eye. Black water spilled from the boy’s blue-tinged lips. The grip on his neck tightened and when Keith looked to the road again he had to slam on his brakes. The tires screeched and the car jerked to a stop in the middle of the road. Pain filled his chest and Keith knew the seatbelt would leave a bruise but the cat in the road darted to safety, unscathed.

His house stood up ahead and Keith slowly finished the drive, his eyes turning up to the old farmhouse backdropped by a pale, cloudy sky. Keith didn’t look in the backseat when he climbed out to grab his backpack and the trash bag full of dead birds from the trunk. He kept his head down and walked up to the green trash can along the side of the house. The bin was half full and already smelled terrible, so he supposed rotting birds wouldn’t make much of a difference.

“Whatcha got there, son?”

Keith startled at the sound of his father’s Texan drawl he refused to lose despite living in the North West for ten years now.

“Sorry, didn't mean to scare ya.” His father raised his hands in a sign of peace. “Just wonderin’ what you were up to.”

“I had trash from the car to dump,” Keith said slowly. Technically, not a lie.

“Hm.” The look on his father’s face said he wasn’t convinced but he wasn’t an arguing type of man. “Your Ma’s in the house… How about you go in and you two decide on supper and I’ll make it.”

Keith nodded and reluctantly left the garbage can’s side to enter the house. Even with the windows open, Keith immediately felt stifled. Summer needed to end soon because their air conditioning was never going to be fixed.

His mother lounged, no sprawled, across the couch in front of a pathetic desk fan resting on their makeshift coffee table, a towel pressed to her forehead. “You’re home,” she said but didn’t move to greet him. Not that he blamed her. “Your friend, Pigeon, called a while ago.”

“Pidge, Mom,” Keith corrected her, even though it was pointless. She never remembered Pidge’s name right.

“I would call her back, she seemed worried.”

Keith dismissed the statement with a wave of his hand and dragged himself upstairs to his small corner room at the end of the hall. The room fit his bed, a desk and chair, and two bookshelves but not much else. His window did, however, have prime rooftop access for the occasional secret toke or insomnia laden stargazing.

The voices of his parents traveled up to his room but Keith grabbed his headphones to tune them out and stretch out on his bed in his underwear and a t-shirt to try to beat the heat and forget about the dead boy.

Tell the truth, he’d said. If only the truth were so simple.

Keith glanced at his phone and saw Pidge had texted him a bunch of messages.

 

**_→_ Are u home yet? **

**_→_ Keith? Answer? **

**_→_ Keith seriously are u home yet. **

**_→_ Keith! **

**_→_ I s2g I will come look for u **

**_→_ Keith pls text me I’m worried**

**_→_ Keith pls**

 

_→ I just got home sorry I got sidetracked on the way_

← **Holy shit I thought u died DON’T DO THAT**

_→ sorry_

**← are u okay?**

_→ it’s complicated_

 

There was no other way to put it other than that. He wasn’t okay and hadn’t been okay since last summer. He could remember every detail about the day that tore his life in half, down to his exact outfit. Despite wanting to forget every minute detail, his memory had seemed to stick everything into his hypothalamus and not let him forget.

 

**← yeah because that makes me feel SO MUCH BETTER**

_→ just forget it ok? I’m at home i’m fine_

**← fine. Can u pick me up tomorrow for school? Matt’s being an asshole**

_→ sure_

**← thanks**

 

Keith glanced up from his phone when he saw something move near his doorway and almost threw the device in alarm. The waterlogged boy stood in front of his door, dripping all over the old, oak wood floors and staring with his loose jaw hanging grotesquely. Keith shut his eyes and believed in anything to make the specter go away but when he looked again he was still standing there, unmoving and not speaking.

“What do _want_ ?” Keith growled as he sat up, clutching his phone in shaking hands so tightly he felt his fingers pop. “Go _away_.”

 

 

> _You can’t ignore me. You’ve been ignoring me and you can’t. You can’t do that. Tell the truth_.

“No,” Keith whispered. “It’s not that easy. You know that–.”

 

 

> _I want to rest._

“I know. I’m sorry.” He wanted to tear his hair out of his scalp in frustration. “I’m _sorry_.”

 

 

> _It’s not enough. It’s not enough. It’s not enough. It’s not enough._

Keith grabbed a pillow to scream into, tears burning his eyes and cheeks. The sound of someone on the steps made Keith pull it together as fast as possible before a soft knock rattled on his door.

“Yeah?” he called shakily, trying to wipe his eyes clear.

“Son, you okay in here? Heard ya yellin,” came his father’s worried voice.

“I’m fine, Dad, just… homework stuff,” he lied quickly.

“Hm. Alright. We’re havin’ chili for dinner, that sound good to you?”

“Yeah, that's fine, Dad.”

“Good… Can I open the door?”

Keith snorted and wiped his face down one more time. “Sure.”

The door slowly creaked open and his father peered through the crack for a moment before finally pushing it open all of the way. He looked tired in his dirty t-shirt and muddy kneed jeans but the man worked on a farm all day, out in the heat, Keith wasn’t surprised he was tired.

“You sure there ain’t nothin’ you want to talk to me about? Or your Ma? I know… I know sometimes you prefer to talk to her over me…”

“Dad, I’m fine,” Keith said quietly. He wasn’t fine but his parents would never understand – this was not something he could easily explain. ‘Really. I’m just tired.”

“You goin’ to the Homecomin’ game on Friday?”

“Maybe. I haven’t decided.”

“You should go. Get outta the house and enjoy yerself… before you get old like me and your ma.” His father smiled slightly and then turned when he heard his mother call for him. “Be there in a sec, Lil’Mama.”

Keith snorted. His mother stood almost three inches taller than his father and yet he still called her _that_. “I’m fine, Dad. Thanks for asking though.”

“Alright… If yer sure.”

“I’m totally sure.” _Lies_ , Keith thought but the lie was enough to appease his father into shutting the door and leaving him alone.

The bedroom felt too cold with the threat of the specter returning, so Keith grabbed a pair of shorts to pull on and slide out onto the roof for a while. Usually, the dead didn’t follow him onto the roof. The gray clouds overhead grew darker with the threat of rain but Keith welcomed the idea of cool water falling down from the sky to finally ease summer into passing.

Keith shut his eyes and put a happier playlist on to drown out the stress threatening to send him into a downward spiral that would probably include a cold. One well placed flu virus at the beginning of his senior year was _not_ how he wanted to spend Homecoming weekend, even if he had no desire to attend the game or go to the dance.

That was a lie.

He wanted to go to the game to see Shiro play.

He wanted to go to the dance but the person he wanted to go with probably already had a date.

Definitely had a date if the company over at Shiro’s house earlier was any hint.

Keith felt tempted to ask Pidge to Homecoming but he wasn’t anywhere near being straight enough to even pretend to go on a date with a girl. Even the thought made him snort. The sound of his phone buzzing drew his eyes down to a new text from an unknown number appeared across the screen.

 

_→ It’s not enough_

_→ It’s not enough_

_→ It’s not enough_

_→ It’s not enough_

_→ It’s not enough_

 

Keith sat up in alarm as the texts continued to pour in one after the other. The number read only as 0’s but the texts didn’t stop. “Stop it,” he whispered, his heart once again slamming in his chest. “Stop it!”

 

→ _tell them_

_→ tell them_

_→ tell them_

_→ tell them_

_→ tell them_

_→ ik ur secrets_

_→ ik all of ur secrets_

_→ they’ll find out_

_→ they’ll know everything_

_→ the kiss_

_→ the secret u keep so close u can’t even tell ur friends_

_→ tell them_

_→ tell them the truth_

_→ the truth_

_→ the tru_

_→ truth_

_→ tell_

_→ help_

 

His cell phone burned hot in his palms and Keith almost dropped the device onto the roof in alarm but the last text made him grip the phone just a bit tighter. _Help_. He turned his gaze back into his room but the specter was gone and the room didn’t feel so icy against his back. His phone slowly returned to feeling normal and no longer burning hot and the texts vanished as if they’d never been.

“Keith!” he heard his mother call from downstairs. “Supper!”

Keith blinked and stared at his phone and then turned his eyes up to the sky. How long had been sitting on the roof? Minutes? Hours? His father had just been upstairs, he’d thought, but dinner was ready.

“Fuck,” he whispered and pushed his hair back out of his face. A cold sweat settled over his limbs as he carefully climbed back through the window to head downstairs for dinner. _The dead can’t text_ , he told himself. _It was just a dream. You fell asleep_.

That’s what he told himself when he sat down for dinner and the specter sat down across from him, spilling water all over the table.

“How was school?” Krolia asked as she served a healthy helping of chili onto his plate. She didn’t notice the dead boy.

“Fine,” Keith said. “We had a pep rally at the end of the day.”

“Did you have fun?” Tex asked.

“Of course he didn't have fun,” Krolia said with a snort. “You know Keith hates those things.”

He wanted to laugh but eating dinner with a ghost made his stomach twist unhappily. “I’m not that hungry,” he said quietly.

Krolia frowned and pressed a hand to his forehead. “You are pretty warm. Are you sure you're not getting sick?”

“Maybe. I don’t know.” That, at least, wasn’t a lie. The first truth he’d uttered all day.

“Maybe you should lie down,” she continued. “We’ll save you some dinner.”

“Okay.” Keith gave them apologetic looks and traipsed back up the stairs to shut the door and immediately go bury himself in bed, his head shoved under a pillow. If he hid here, the ghost wouldn’t be there when he woke up. Child’s logic but it was enough to drag him down into sleep.

 

* * *

 

Shiro stood up ahead, his football jersey emblazoned with the number 01 on the back, standing out in Keith’s mind. The popular crowd, Allura, Romelle, Hunk, and a boy obscured by shadow, all encircled him like beautiful bodyguards. Allura threw her head back in a laugh Keith couldn’t hear.

Crows circled overhead, cawing and calling. One landed on Shiro’s shoulder its talons leaving blood stains in the white fabric of Shiro’s jersey. No one noticed.

Keith swallowed the lump forming in his throat and approached the group. Allura saw him first and looked displeased to see him like he personally caused her grief just by existing. The shadow boy, his face still obscured, said something to Hunk, who laughed.

His hands felt heavy.

Keith glanced down and saw he was carrying the dead crows from yesterday.

His palms were bloody.

“Shiro,” he said weakly.

Shiro turned to face him and Keith’s stomach turned. Shiro’s skull was smashed in on the right side and a circular cut around his right bicep poured thick blood. His lips were cracked and bruised but he still smiled.

The shadow boy’s face slowly appeared.

 

 

> _Tell the truth_ , he said.
> 
>  

* * *

 

Keith jerked his body awake to escape the hideous nightmare. While he attempted to calm his heart, Keith took stock of his surroundings and realized with rising alarm he was not in his bed or room. He wasn’t even in the house.

The dashboard of his car stared back at him blankly but the keys rested in the ignition and the front door to the house stood open. A chill ran its tongue down the back of Keith’s neck but when he glanced in the rearview mirror he was alone.

Pulling the keys free, Keith climbed out of the car to head back inside the house. Visions of Shiro’s marred face followed him to the kitchen and he felt too afraid to go back to sleep. Instead, a Redbull called his name and Keith carried it back to his bedroom and popped it open to take a swig. The caffeine burned his throat on the way down but he refused to let the nightmares hold him hostage. Two drinks down and Keith went to turn on his ancient desktop, circa 2000.

The computer’s screen flickered in the darkness of his room as it slowly and painstakingly turned itself on. He tried to dismiss any lingering paranoia as he suddenly felt as if there were eyes along the back of his neck. Something watched. The internet took a while to pull up but once it did, Keith opened up Facebook to look up a certain student.

He typed the name slowly, almost stopping more than once, but finally hitting enter he was greeted with the profile immediately. The profile picture unchanged from a year ago, Keith was not surprised to see messages flooding the wall, even recent ones, from the student body and the boy’s family. Keith pulled up his photos to peruse and take in the life and laughter of someone missing.

 _Dead_.

Not missing.

Dead.

Keith closed the internet browser upon self-admission. The first time he’d ever admitted it despite the ever-present reminder of the truth.

 

 

> _Please_ , whispered the specter. _Tell the truth. I just want to rest. You owe me that much_.

Keith swiveled his chair around to take in the sight of the waterlogged boy sitting on his bed. Tears streaked his face or maybe that was just part of the water pouring from his hair and skin onto Keith’s sheets and pooling on the floor.

 

 

> _I miss my family._

Keith swallowed and took another sip of the Red Bull.

 

 

> _Please talk to me. You’re the only one who can._

He didn’t _want_ to be the only one who could talk to this spirit – or any spirit. Prior to last summer, he’d never put much stock into spirits or ghosts or the afterlife. Aliens, he believed in. Cryptids, tangible beings, he believed in but not the dead. Not _this_.

 

 

> _Please, Keith, I’m… starting to forget things. I need your help._

Keith shut his eyes and drew in a steadying breath. Sometimes the dead came to him for help but he tried his best to ignore them. He hadn’t _asked_ for this and he didn’t want it. He didn’t want this _gift_ of seeing and speaking to the dead.

 

 

> _Please, Keith_.

“You know I can’t do that,” he said finally. The truth was only half his and he didn’t have permission to tell.

The specter’s face flashed skeletal and angry. His one eye glowed red in rage. Keith had never seen him angry.

 

 

> _They’ll find out soon. You’ll tell them._

Keith swiveled his chair back around to pull up Solitaire, the only game that functioned on the old machine. The room quieted and the cold chill left Keith’s spine replaced with the September heat. Somewhere, thunder rolled.

 

* * *

 

“ _Please_ , tell me you aren’t seriously planning on spending Friday and Saturday alone in your room when you _could_ be hanging with me,” Pidge said once they were parked outside of the school.

Currently, Keith couldn’t even plan fifteen minutes from now, let alone two days. The only thing he could mentally manage in the moment included the lyrics of _Despacito_ , unfortunately, stuck in his head and combatting his eyelids from closing shut permanently.

“Keith, are you even listening?” Pidge continued.

“No,” he admitted. “I’ve been awake since three this morning, I can’t process a lot right now. You’re lucky we didn’t wreck on the way here.”

“You need coffee.”

He needed a shot of espresso directly to his bloodstream followed by a hit of a narcotic stimulant.

“I need something,” he agreed reluctantly once Pidge was already halfway out of the car.

A black Jeep pulled into the space behind them and when Keith eased out of his car, he watched a flock of crows land on the hood and roof. They had grown in number. Shiro exited the car and Allura rushed up to greet him with a kiss.

“Gross,” Pidge muttered. “It’s bad enough we have to see them in the hallway all lovey-dovey eyes.”

Keith shook his head and tried to look away but his eyes stayed trained on Shiro for so long, Shiro turned to look at him. They made eye contact but the experience was nothing like the movies. His heart fluttered but not in a fun way. There was no swooning, no sexual tension, just anger and something else beneath.

Longing?

“You coming?” Pidge asked.

Keith finally tore his gaze from Shiro’s and sheepishly followed Pidge inside. The hallway felt vast to Keith, despite all of the student body milling about. Pidge walked with him until she had to go meet Hunk in the AV room to do the morning announcements. She left him in front of his locker which Keith could only manage to stare at blankly. In his exhausted state, he managed to pry open his locker and stare further into its contents. HIs eyes drifted shut until a whispered conversation next to him caught his attention.

“They’re practically SWAT teaming the area for clues,” a girl whispered.

“Yeah, but how many people wore shoes like his? One old washed up shoe means nothing.”

“They’re dragging the gorge, I heard, but Allura hasn’t heard from her uncle since this morning.”

“Do you think he jumped? Or do you think someone shoved him in?”

Keith glanced over at the two pretty girls talking and recognized them to be part of Allura’s crowd. The conversation send knives of anxiety in his gut and the room suddenly felt too hot. The edges of his vision blurred, while nausea made his stomach churn.

Suddenly, the floor knocked the breath from his lungs and the room went dark like his eyes had finally gave in. It wasn’t until strong hands sat him upright he realized he’d fainted in the middle of the hallway.

“Are you alright? Can you hear me– Give him some room, people, let him breathe.”

Keith gulped and reached up to touch the back of his head. A sore spot made him wince.

“Keith.”

The voice and firm, calloused hands belonged to Shiro, Keith realized too late. “I’m fine,” he lied.

“You fainted–.”

“I didn’t–.” He cut off when the sound of a wet sock sticking to the floor made him drag his gaze upward.

The waterlogged boy approached. He was missing a shoe.

 

 

> _They’ll know soon_ , he said.

“You didn’t what?” Shiro asked while the crowd slowly cleared.

Keith continued to stare up at the specter until Shiro snapped his fingers beneath his nose to gain his attention. “What?” Keith asked.

“I’m taking you to the nurse,” Shiro concluded.

“Shiro–.”

Shiro began to ease him to his feet slowly and the world floated for a moment but with Shiro steadying him, he managed to hobble down the hallway. Silence surrounded them with everyone trapped in first period. Keith dared to cast a few glances Shiro’s way but he was focused ahead and not on him.

“How long have you been dating Allura?” he asked to fill the pregnant void between them.

“Like a week,” Shiro replied shortly.

“Do you like it?” The question came out wrong but it was too late to take it back now.

“Do I like it?” Shiro repeated, clearly confused.

Keith nodded. “Yeah. Do you like… being with a girl?”

That question came out right.

Shiro’s jaw clenched and he whirled to face Keith and they backed up into some lockers. “What did you just ask me?”

“Shiro, stop,” he whispered. “Please.”

He didn’t have a right to beg – not when he’d ignored pleas the night prior but he didn’t want to do this now. Not in the hallway and he was tired of Shiro _denying_ everything just to save face. He was so tired.

Shiro pulled back when he realized what he’d done and looked sheepish and guilty. “Keith, I’m sorry…”

“For what? This or everything?”

Shiro flinched and refused to make eye contact. “Everything,” he whispered. “Allura and I aren’t _really_ dating,” he said slowly. “It’s just a… It’s just to please her father. She’s actually… She’s with Romelle.”

Well, that wasn’t what he’d expected to hear. “Oh,” he said. “But I saw her kiss you–.”

“It’s all an act. She helps me, I help her. We make it work out.”

“So, she knows you’re…”

“Yes,” Shiro said quickly, cutting Keith off before he could use the word _gay_. “C’mon, seriously, you need to get to the nurse.”

The silence between them that followed didn’t feel as awkward as usual which Keith couldn’t tell if that were a good or bad omen but he was taking whatever strides he could make with Shiro. They came to the front office and Shiro chatted up the secretary for a moment before she told them to go ahead and go back to the nurse’s station.

They passed by the principal’s office on the way and Keith noted three people standing in the office, all looked up at the television on the wall. The news was playing and Keith almost fainted again when he saw whose picture was on the screen. He jerked his eyes away and kept walking, head down, ignoring the squelching sound following him through the halls.

 

 

 

> _They’ll know. They’ll know. They’ll know. They’ll know. Tell them. Please. Help me. Keith._

Keith wondered if Shiro had heard the news. If he was pretend dating Allura, they were at least friends, which meant he probably _did_ know and was either ignoring it or internalizing it.

“Shiro,” he said but the nurse ushered them inside before Keith could finish his sentence.

He didn’t look over his shoulder.

 

* * *

 

“ _Holy shit_ , you _fainted_?”

Keith nodded even though Pidge couldn’t see him through the phone call. “Yeah,” he amended once he realized what he’d done. After the nurse had assessed him, she’d allowed him to lie down in her office until his mom had shown up to pick him up. She’d taken one look at him, checked the bump on his head, deemed him fine, and then taken him home to rest.

“I got your homework for the day,” Pidge said. “It wasn’t much.”

“Thanks, Pidge.” A beep played on his other line. “Hey, I gotta go, someone else is calling.”

“Okay. See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah.” Pidge ended the call and Keith picked up the other line, half expecting to hear the specter’s voice on the other side, breathing like a dead pervert. “Hello?”

“Hey, Keith… It’s... It’s Shiro.”

“Shiro?” Keith asked in surprise. He hadn’t expected Shiro to be calling him. Hell, he hadn’t even expected Shiro to still have his number. “Were we partnered in some project or something?”

“What?”

“You’re calling me. You don’t… talk to me anymore. Except for today.”

Shiro paused for a moment and Keith could practically see him biting his lip as he debated on what to say. “I apologized for everything, remember?”

“I know.”

“Did you believe me?”

“Did I believe what? Your apology? I guess. I don’t know. I don’t know you well anymore, maybe I never did,” Keith said. The words tumbled out of his mouth faster than he’d intended and he didn’t have a chance to reign them in.

Another pause. “I was just calling to… to try to talk again... Like we used to.”

“Like when you used to pretend we weren’t friends?” Keith asked sharply.  Talking to Shiro brought up a lot of feelings and pain he hadn’t expected to have. “Like when you would keep me like one of your many secrets, Takashi?”

“Keith…”

“Forget it. If you want to be my friend, Shiro, you have to make an effort. Not one bullshit blanket apology and a shitty phone call.” Keith ended the call then, shoving his phone beneath his pillow so if Shiro called him back, he wouldn’t be tempted to answer.

All of the old memories of being Shiro’s secret friend and watching Shiro grow in popularity over the years, walk separate paths and still double back to him like he was second best returned to his mind. His phone buzzed beneath his pillow but Keith ignored it until the buzzing grew to be too fast and too often. He yanked the phone free to see new texts from the same number from the other day.

 

→ _look on the news_

_→ look on the news_

_→ look on the news_

_→ look on the news_

_→ they’ll know soon_

_→ they’ll know soon_

_→ look on the news_

_→ say my name_

_→ please_

_→ help_

_→ help_

_→ help_

_→ they’re coming_

 

 _They’re coming._ Keith didn’t know who _they_ were but he assumed the ghost meant the police. He shuddered and shoved the phone back under the blanket again to ignore the ghostly texts. Tonight would be another night without sleep.

The sound of gravel crunching made Keith slowly sit up and he eased over to his window to peer down at the front of the house. He gasped when the sight of the Sheriff’s car pulling up gave him a mini heart attack. He rushed from his room and down the stairs, even though he dreaded what waited on the other side of the door.

“Keith?” his mother called but he was already outside, standing on the front porch, as Sheriff Coran stepped out of the vehicle and approached his father.

“You gave me a call, Tex?” Coran asked as he walked up, looking about as tired as Keith still felt. “What seems to be the problem?”

“You just gotta see it,” Tex replied darkly.

Keith frowned and slowly slithered off of the porch to creep behind and follow. His father led Coran to the back of the house and out to the fenced paddock where they kept a herd of cows, some chickens, and a few goats. As they approached, the smell hit Keith first, making him gag and shove his shirt over his nose, but the sight that followed made him shudder.

Six of their cows lay dead in the grass and where their bodies rested, the grass was dead and brown as well. They were strewn around the field, flies buzzing overhead noisily. Keith coughed which made his father spin around to see him standing there, intruding.

“Keith, git inside,” Tex said, pointing to the house. “Go on, git.”

He wanted to argue but the look on his father’s face said there was no arguing so Keith turned and headed back into the house through the backdoor. His mother stood in the kitchen, washing dishes, humming quietly to the radio.

“The cows are dead,” he said, even though she would have had to be blind to not see them from the kitchen window.

“That’s why your father called the sheriff. Make sure it wasn’t someone poisoning them.” She continued to hum and wash the dishes, until she gasped and stilled her hands.

“Mom?” Keith frowned and took a step closer.

Krolia glanced down at the sink but didn’t move her hands, as if she were stuck or too afraid to move. “Keith,” she whispered.

“What?”

“Something is grabbing my–.” Krolia cut off and screamed, yanking back out of the sink. Water splashed around the room and Keith’s eyes widen as blood splattered with it, coating the window and other fixtures around the room.

“Mom!” Keith rushed to her side, his eyes widening at the sight of deep gashes in his mother’s wrists and cuts in her palms. Blood poured from them so fast, Keith could only stammer and shove his shirt around her arms. He screamed for help until his father and Coran came rushing into the house. She was so pale.

Tex pulled Keith away from her and immediately stripped to start bandaging her arms while Coran was calling for an ambulance. Keith fell backward against the sink and slowly turned to see the black water slowly draining. There were two knives stuck inside the drain, pointing upward, his mother’s blood staining the metal.

He could hear his father tell his mother she was going to be alright and she just had to stay awake but then after that his body shut down. His knees buckled and he slipped to the floor, his bare feet slick with blood and soap. He barely managed to recognize the EMT’s coming into the room or how they were putting his mother onto a stretcher, his father walking along with them, and how she was being taken to the hospital. Coran was kneeling at his side, asking him questions but he couldn’t register anything other than the ringing in his own ears.

The world went dark again.

 

* * *

 

“Keith? Son? Can you hear me, Keith?”

Keith winced at the sound of voices and a bright light shining in his eyes. “Ah- stop,” he said, pushing the light away from his face.

Coran shut his flashlight off and touched his forehead with the back of his head. “You’re burning up. Are you sick?”

“No… I don’t think so. Where am I? Where’s Mom?”

“You’re still at home, your parents went to the hospital. You fainted.”

That was the second time he’d fainted in under twenty-four hours but Keith supposed he’d been under a lot of stress lately. “I– I need you to take me to the hospital. I have to see if she’s–.”

“It’s alright, your father asked me to make sure you stay here.”  

“No… I need to go see her!” He tried to stand up but his legs refused to work and suddenly his body felt so overwhelmingly tired.

“She’ll be alright, I’m sure the doctors will stitch her up and figure out what happened.”

Keith glared into Coran’s calm face but he didn’t have the energy to fight back. He just wanted to rest. The kitchen was a mess but Coran helped him stand up and walk slowly to the living room to lie on the couch. The house was too hot and he desperately wanted to take a shower to wash the day off but he was too afraid to be alone.

“Can I ask a question?” Keith asked quietly while Coran sat with him.

“Of course you can.”

“I saw on… the news you… you might have found… the missing… the missing student.” He still couldn’t say his name.

“Well, we haven’t found anything yet and I can’t really talk about that with you, I’m afraid. It’s need to know only.”

Keith wanted to roll his eyes and point out that he’d told Allura _something_ and the rumors had quickly flooded the school but clearly he was not on the need to know list. “I was just wondering if you thought he was alive or not.”

“We’re not sure,” Coran admitted. “We’re hoping so.”

Keith nodded and heard a soft humming, making his eyes slowly open to see the dead boy standing behind Coran’s seat, rocking, humming, and laughing. His face twisted in maniacal giggling and Keith shuddered at the sight.

 

 

> _So close. So close. You’re in trouble. You’re in trouble. Tell him now and maybe you won’t go to jail. Murderer._

“Stop it,” Keith whispered.

“Hm? Did you say something, Keith?” Coran asked and then jumped when his radio picked up. “Pardon me. I need to take this.”

 

 

> _Trouble. Trouble. Trouble. Murderer._

He ignored the specter’s giggling and slowly sat up to try and hear Coran’s conversation through the wall as he stepped out onto the front porch to talk. If he listened hard enough, he managed to pick up a few things: _are you sure_ , _dead?, him?, on my way_.

Keith settled back down and Coran returned to the living room and gave him an apologetic look. “I have to go, I’m afraid, but I’ll try to give you a call to check up on you. Alright?”

Before Keith could agree or disagree, Coran was gone, leaving him alone with a giggling ghost. He slowly turned his eyes over to the waterlogged boy and took a deep breath.

 

 

> _Do you know me now? Do you know me now? Do you know me now? Say it. Say my name. SAY IT. SAY MY NAME. SAY IT. SAY IT. SAY IT. SAY IT._

Keith shut his eyes and took a deep breath, letting the name slowly pass across his tongue, “Lance.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning for slurs used briefly in this chapter. I did my best to remain sensitive to the issue at hand but please be warned.

Seventy-two stitches to match the mandatory hold they made his mother stay in the hospital due to policy. The doctors weren’t sure how well her hands would work once the stitches were removed, the damage had been deep. Keith went to visit after school and his father had yet to leave her side. Thursday night had arrived and Keith found himself in his mother’s hospital room, balancing a sketchbook on his lap and knees, sketching her lying in bed, talking to his father. 

“Something  _ grabbed _ me, Tex,” Krolia insisted. “I  _ felt _ fingers wrap around my wrist… Sharp nails digging into my wrists– I’m not making this up.” 

“Don’t talk like that or they’ll hold ya longer than seventy-two hours,” Tex whispered. “Lil’Mama, I told you, there were knives in the sink, caught in the drain, I had Coran check for me. That’s what cut ya. Nothin’ in the sink to grab ya.” 

Tex, much like his son, was a skeptic but Krolia had grown up in a house full of tarot cards, palm readings, crystals, and tea leaves. She believed strongly in spirits, demons, and magic. 

“Tex, I’m telling you what I felt. I need you to call my uncles,” she said, looking exasperated. 

Tex sighed and Keith could tell his father was discontent with the idea. Tex had never been a fan of his mother’s family and they weren’t too fond of him either. Called him an  _ outsider _ , whatever that meant, Keith had never bothered to ask. 

“Tex,  _ please _ , they need to come out to the house, to feel what’s going on… This and the cows? Please… They haven’t seen Keith since he was… younger and should see how much he’s changed– grown.”

Keith gritted his teeth in response to the awkward statement but didn’t glance up in acknowledgment, instead focusing on shading his father’s tired expression. The exact way his brows pinched together with just the idea of having to call the Marmora clan. 

“Fine, I’ll call ‘em but if Kolivan makes one remark–.” 

“They leave,” Krolia finished for him. “Thank you.”

The idea of seeing his great uncles was part exciting since they always brought cool gifts but also dreadful. He hadn’t seen them since their move from Arizona ten years ago and a lot had changed since then. 

“Tex, it’s getting late, don’t you think you should take Keith home?” 

“I drove myself,” Keith reminded her. “But, yeah, guess I should get home. School.” He stood to place a kiss to her cheek and will all of his tears to keep at bay.

“I’ll be home soon. They said Saturday,” Krolia said softly, turning her face toward him for another kiss. 

Keith dropped his eyes to her bandaged hands and wrists and nodded weakly, unable to say anything else. This was his fault and he would never be able to forgive himself.

“Are you going to the dance?” 

“Not sure.” A blanket statement because after Coran left the night prior there hadn’t been any more news, just rumors floating around. Allura, however, had been notably missing from school today. 

“You should go and have fun,” Krolia said quietly. 

Keith kissed her cheek again. “I’ll think about it,” he promised before gathering his belongings and going to the elevator. The hallway was empty and with the lights dimming to signal the end of visiting hours, Keith felt cold and wary. But also  _ angry _ . Haunting him – hurting  _ him _ – was a well earned endeavor but attacking his family and their livelihood? He was downright livid. 

When the elevator closed, Keith noted Lance’s dripping reflection in the doors. “Go bother Shiro,” he said icily. “And if you hurt my mother again, I will never acknowledge you as long as you fucking haunt me.” 

> _I didn’t mean to_ ,  Lance admitted sheepishly, as if he were ashamed.  _ I’m just so  angry . Not myself – like something else is controlling me. Please, I need your help.  _

“Nothing else is controlling you,” Keith said. “And I can’t help you.” 

> _ Tell the truth. Confess.  _

“It’s not all mine to tell,” he argued quietly.

> _ Talk to him.  _

“You talk to him.” 

You know I can’t and I know you want to help. You’ve always done the right thing. 

The elevator dinged and when the doors opened, Keith hurried out into the night and to his car. The right thing – a debatable concept but Keith had always been a great secret keeper. 

Especially for Shiro. 

Keith eased into his car and noticed Lance in the front, soaking the floor and seat. He rolled his eyes and tossed his bag into the backseat. “Are you seriously in the front seat right now?”

> _ I want to rest.  _

“Ironically, so do I.” Keith ignored the sound of dripping water as he drove toward a gas station to fill up before going home. The gas station was mostly empty except for a truck sitting by a gas pump unattended when Keith pulled up. Lance was gone by the time he climbed out to go inside and use the cash his father had leant him. 

The owner of the truck was talking to the middle-aged woman attendant behind the counter and at first, Keith was too tired to eavesdrop until he heard the name, Lance McClain, pass between them. 

“Can’t believe he just washed up after all this time – are they sure it’s him?” the attendant asked. 

“They haven’t released official records yet but they say what’s left of his clothes match what he wore the night he disappeared,” the truck owner muttered and shook his head. 

The attendant whistled. “That poor boy – his poor family.” 

Keith gulped and accidentally dropped his cash. The fumbling of picking it up drew their attention and the driver apologized for holding up the line. Keith held the twenty in sweaty palms and slowly stepped up to the counter. 

“Uh – pump four,” he muttered while sliding the beat up twenty across to her. A sale sign on fidget spinners sat in a basket, all neatly stacked by color.  _ 2-for-1!  _

“Sure thing, honey. You feeling okay?” the attendant asked. 

Her voice sounded far away and the room felt hot and tight like his bones wanted to crawl out of his kin. “Yeah, I'm fine,” he said quickly. 

“You hear about that missing kid? Supposedly, he washed up near the spillway… or at least, what’s left of him,” she continued gravely. 

Keith nodded and drummed his fingers along the counter to match the nerves firing off in his brain. “Y-Yeah.” 

_ They know _ _,_ Lance whispered in his ear and he had to force himself not to turn and look. The world smelled of rotting fish and dead flesh. 

“You sure you’re okay, honey, you look sick.” She handed him a receipt. 

“Yeah – uh – I knew him,” Keith said and then darted from the gas station out to his car. The anxiety fluttering in his stomach made his hands shake while pumping gas. The tank didn’t take the full twenty but he was too sick to go back inside to collect the change. He left the parking lot but only made it to the end of the road before having to pull over and retch. 

> _ Everyone will know soon.  _

Keith steadied his hand against the hood of his car and looked up to see Lance standing in front of him. His face was more skull than flesh and his fingertips were gnawed away. The sight made him retch again, choking on bile and spittle. 

> _ They found me.  _

Keith dragged a deep breath into his lungs to try and clear his mind. Lance’s body had washed up but that didn’t mean anything – the cops would have to investigate first.

> _ They’ll come for you.  _

“ _ Shut. Up _ ,” Keith snarled, leaning back against his car so he didn’t have to look at Lance’s disturbing face. He needed to relax; the more he let Lance bother him, the more guilty he seemed. Without proof of any sort of crime, no one would ever come banging on his door. 

> _ I’ll be free.  _

Keith raised his middle finger up over his shoulder. Everything was fine, the sky wasn’t falling down, and his uncles were coming. They would cleanse the house and the farm, and life would return to normal. No more spirits. 

His phone buzzed. 

Keith opened the text notification and saw Shiro’s name pop up. 

 

**→ Are you seeing the news??**

 

Keith saw Shiro was still typing and in a panic called Shiro to stop him from finishing his text message. They couldn’t discuss it – not via text or phone call. 

“Shiro, it’s okay,” Keith said as soon as Shiro picked up. “Don’t– Don’t panic. It’s no big deal, just… I’ll see you tomorrow and  _ talk in person _ .” He hoped Shiro would catch on. 

“Tomorrow,” Shiro said slowly. “Okay, okay, okay.” Panic drained from Shiro’s voice with each utterance of  _ okay _ but Keith knew he was still worried. 

“Shiro,” he said quietly, keeping his voice calm. “Just breathe, okay? You’re fine. Everything is fine.” 

“Tomorrow.” 

“Yes. I have to go but we’ll talk tomorrow.” 

“Okay.” 

Keith sighed as he ended the call. The nighttime sounds of crickets and distant cars helped ease paranoia from his veins and still his racing mind. The smell of dew and the crisp whisper of autumn floated into Keith’s nostrils and he let the quiet offer a sense of calm. 

  
When he turned around, Lance was gone, and the rest of the ride home was peaceful. 

 

* * *

  
  


The morning Friday news was abuzz with what was known about Lance’s death which wasn’t much at all. While he readied for school Friday morning, he could hear the TV playing from the front room. 

_ “Lance McClain went missing last year, August 17, and was presumed alive by his family. There was no evidence to the contrary until now. The seventeen year old’s body washed up just inside the spillway, where he was found by a fisherman late in the evening.” _

_ “Ya know, I was shocked,”  _ came a new voice, Keith assumed the fisherman was being interviewed.  _ “At first, I just thought it was some trash and I moved my boat closer and… I saw the… the face- or what was left- not much… not much was left of him. Poor kid.”  _

Keith shuddered and tried to focus on making his lunch but his stomach wasn’t having it this morning. 

_ “The police have yet to release the cause of death but they haven’t yet ruled out homicide.”  _

_ “We’re unsure if the victim was murdered or if he suffered a nasty fall but we’re waiting for the coroner's notes to release that information,”  _ came the sound of Coran’s voice.  _ “Right now, we aren’t ruling out the possibility this could be a homicide.” _

The news anchor returned shortly after Coran’s interview.  _ “The McClain family’s lives have been turned upside down since the disappearance of their son, one year ago, and now they are torn on their feelings.”  _

_ “I’m… unsure if I’m happy we finally know- or-... I’m sorry- I can’t…”  _ The sound of a distraught woman made Keith’s heart sink. He hadn’t wanted all of this. 

The television shut off and Keith could hear his father coming into the kitchen. “That poor kid. Didn’t you know him, Keith?” 

“Yeah,” Keith said quietly with a nod. “Kinda.” 

“Hope they catch the bastards that did it to him.” 

“You don’t know it was a murder, Dad.” 

“He was murdered, I can tell you that right now. Guarantee it, we’ll know in a few days or so. I’m gonna go down to the hospital and visit yer mama, you have a good day at school, kiddo.” Tex patted his back and pressed a kiss to his hair. 

“Thanks, Dad,” he whispered, not looking up from where he’d stopped making a peanut butter sandwich minutes ago. The clock said he needed to go, so Keith finished making the sandwich and hurried out the door so he could go meet Pidge at the front of the school. 

Homecoming. 

Lance’s favorite time of year – he was always head of the Homecoming committee and Keith knew he would have gone all out his senior year if he’d been around. When Keith pulled up outside the school, he could tell they had re-entered a mourning period. The game against the Galra Devils usually brought excitement and school spirit with the mascot running around excitedly but not today. The building, bedecked in Garrison colors, was extremely quiet when Keith followed Pidge inside to his locker. 

Someone had started a new memorial for Lance in the main entryway and people were already stopping by to pay tribute. Keith ignored rising nausea in his stomach and rode out his first few periods feeling as if he were in a haze until the senior class was called to assembly right before lunch. 

Keith filed in with the rest of the seniors, scanning the room for Shiro, but didn’t find him in time before Pidge pulled him to a seat. No one spoke when the principal took the stage. 

“Good afternoon, everyone, I’ll try to keep this brief… I’m sure you’ve all seen the news that Lance McClain presumed to be missing was found dead on Wednesday evening. I know this comes as a shock but we have set up grief counselors until further notice.” 

Keith drew his eyes around the room until he spotted Shiro, off near the front, looking pale. People were crying and comforting one another. Keith sank further down in his seat. 

“I understand tonight is Homecoming and I think we all know how important the event was to Lance. The game will still go one tonight – and the dance is still on for Saturday. All ticket proceeds are going toward Lance’s family. We have also arranged for the senior class to leave today if this is too much for anyone, you do have permission to leave once the assembly is over. I do hope to see you all tonight because that is what Lance would have wanted. He believed strongly in this school and I know he believed in all of you.”

The room filled with sniffles and quiet sobs and Keith hoped Lance (for once) was here and could see how much he was missed. He looked to Pidge to ask her if she wanted to go home after this was over and was surprised to see her face tear-streaked and lip trembling as she held in her emotions.  

“Pidge?” he whispered in surprise; he’d never seen her cry before. 

She startled at his voice but didn’t speak or wipe her face. 

“Lance’s family is holding a service in Lance’s memory tomorrow and they’ve welcomed you all to join in. The service starts at noon at St. Mary’s Church,” the principal continued. “You’re all dismissed.” 

Usually, being dismissed from an assembly was like watching animals stampede on Animal Planet but at first, no one moved at all or said anything. Keith remained seated until a row finally stood to file out. The room slowly emptied and Keith followed with Pidge on his heels. The majority of the senior class filed out of the building to go home and Keith saw Shiro go toward his locker instead. He quickly followed. 

“Shiro.” 

Shiro turned at the sound of his voice looking pale and unsteady. “Keith.” 

“Are you going home?” 

Shiro nodded heavily. “Yeah… I can’t…” 

“It’s okay– meet me at the park before you go home? We can talk.” 

Another nod. “Okay.” 

With that in place, Keith returned to his own locker to grab his books and bag before meeting Pidge at hers. She was still crying.

“Hey,” he said. “C’mon, I’ll take you home or did you text Matt?”

Pidge paused for a while, staring into her locker unmoving, before speaking softly. “Remember after Lance went missing, I got sick? I didn’t hang out for the rest of the summer and didn't’ start the year on time?” 

“Yeah?” 

“I wasn’t really sick… I was out… looking for Lance – when I could even get out of bed.” Pidge sniffed and wiped her nose against her sleeve. “He was my boyfriend.” 

Keith blinked a few times to take in  _ that _ bomb. “Your boyfriend.” 

“You don’t have to sound so surprised,” she snapped icily. 

“Sorry– Lance just doesn’t seem like your type,” he amended.

“Well, he was… He was... He was so nice to me and I didn’t think he was my type either at first but then I got to know him. The  _ real _ him. Not– not the facade he put on at school. We were going to go public our junior year but then he went missing… I was a wreck– but I always thought he’d be found– I didn’t think…” She trailed off into more crying and guilt clamped jagged teeth in Keith's heart. 

“I’m really sorry, Pidge.”

> _ Katy. _

Keith startled at Lance’s voice and watched him materialize. Lance flickered between looking like a corpse and the boy he used to be in life around her, which Keith mentally stored for another time. 

> _ I’m sorry, Katy. I miss you. I almost… Forgot about you. How could I forget about you? How could I forget about… about my Katy?  _

Keith flinched and watched Lance place a hand on Pidge’s shoulder. She visibly shivered and then shut her locker, turning to face him finally. 

“Let’s go,” she said firmly like she was resolved in her pain and would feel no more. 

“Do you want to talk–?” 

“No offense, Keith, but you’re not the best to talk to, especially lately,” she said, her voice sharp like knives. “So, I’d rather not. I just needed that off my chest but I don’t want to talk to  _ you _ about it.”

The brutal honesty left a bruise to his ego but he didn’t say anything else, just turned to go outside, his head down. Maybe he really was as awful a friend as he felt most of the time. Maybe Lance’s spirit had affected Pidge in some way– or maybe he was just that terrible. 

When they came out to the car, Keith noticed yet again, a group around his car. “Now what?” he grumbled, making his way to the front.

There weren’t dead birds this time but on the side of his car, painted in red, were the words  _ TRANNY FAG _ in bold print. Dread filled Keith to his core as he stared at the slurs and suddenly felt extremely self-conscious like everyone was watching him and  _ knew _ .

The nightmare from Arizona had followed him here. 

Pidge looked at him in surprise and then other eyes fell on him, too, curious and searching. Keith gulped and watched as everyone started to look at their phones, one by one, as everyone seemed to receive a simultaneous message until his own phone went off. Keith glanced at the screen and saw the unknown number from the previous strange texts. 

 

**→ I told you. Everyone will know your secrets.**

 

Beneath the text was a photograph of  _ him _ – before coming to Garrison High, accepting an award for a gymnastics competition. Girls Junior League. Bile burned the back of his throat.

“Keith?” Pidge asked as she glanced up from her phone. “Is that…  _ you _ ?” 

  
  


* * *

  
  


“Do you want help?” 

Ten times Pidge had now asked him that same question and ten times he’d said nothing in response. After the mass text, Keith had canceled his plans with Shiro, and driven to his house with Pidge in tow, to start scrubbing his car by hand. 

The ancient Grand Am was a friend and he felt bad for damaging the paint job but he couldn’t drive around with slurs on her for all to see. The drive home had been bad enough with people slowing to assess and look. The spray paint hadn’t budged with anything he had on hand, so he’d taken to scrapping and ruining his car to remove the offense. 

Tears mingled with sweat mingled with blood from chewing his lips but he couldn’t stop until the words were gone. If the words were gone then maybe they would be erased from everyone’s memory, too. Pidge had checked Facebook and found people discussing the issue but he hadn’t been able to check himself. She claimed some people were being supportive but it was all white noise and pain to him.

Lance had been absent ever since the event. No sounds of water dripping or the smell of dead fish. Keith was glad. 

“Keith…” Pidge said his name slow like she wasn’t sure what to say while he scraped the words away. “I’m really sorry. Matt was trying to figure out who sent it but no luck.” 

“Forget about it,” he said, wiping his forehead on the back of his arm. Matt would never be able to figure out who had sent the texts but Keith knew. He’d never known Lance to be malicious in life but apparently, in death, he gave no fucks. 

“You never told me,” she said quietly, toying with her shorts where she sat in the driveway beside him. 

“I never told anyone,” he replied angrily. Except for Shiro but Shiro knew everything about him. He was the only one Keith had felt safe around. 

“I’m… sorry about what I said earlier.” 

“It’s fine.” It wasn’t fine but his feelings didn’t matter. They were in shreds, scattered across from the school to his heart and they never mattered anyway. They had never mattered to Shiro or anyone else, why should they pretend to matter to Pidge? 

“I was too harsh.”

“Just drop it!” He didn’t mean to be cold but his guard stood on its hackles like a wounded dog. Paranoia filled his every move as he didn’t know if this public revelation now meant they would have to move. Again. 

“Should I go home? I can have Matt come to pick me up.” 

Keith went to agree and stopped. For two hours, Pidge had stayed outside in the heat while he ruined his car to cover up his hurt. She hadn’t complained and only continuously offered help which he had yet to take her up on. Despite her words from earlier, she didn’t deserve  _ this _ . 

“I’m sorry, Pidge… I just have a lot on my mind – with this Lance thing and my mom and now all of this. It’s just a lot.” 

The weight of everything felt so crushing and he wasn’t sure how to deal with it all. There was no one to help him. Not even Pidge could help him with everything. 

“Your mom? What happened to your mom?” 

In all of the drama with Lance’s body washing up and dealing with ghosts and spirits alone, Keith then realized he hadn’t told Pidge about his mom’s accident and emergency surgery to be stitched up. She had no idea Krolia was in the hospital and not at work and that’s why his house was empty this time of day. 

“She’s in the hospital,” he said quietly and continued to scrape some more paint away. 

“ _ What _ ? Why didn’t you tell me? Keith!” 

“I’m sorry. It just… I haven’t had the time to talk.” 

“God, I’m so sorry- I had no idea. Keith, if you’d told me I would have been more sensitive and not been all yelling at you and– I’m so sorry.” Pidge reached over to touch his arm but Keith pulled from her touch. He didn’t want to be touched right now or maybe never again. “Sorry,” she said again. “Is she okay, what happened?” 

“She had an accident in the sink. Her wrists got cut with some knives,” Keith said, even though he knew how it sounded. “She was washing dishes and I guess they were like sticking up? I think she stuck her hand down and didn’t realize and cut herself real bad. She’s being held for 72 hours because of _ policy _ , which is bullshit, but they have to.” 

Keith knew how it sounded. 

He knew Pidge was probably giving him a strange look but he also knew what his mother had said. Something had  _ grabbed _ her and even though he’d grown up skeptical of all things going bump in the night, he was willing to believe her knowing Lance’s latest stunt. The anger fueled his cleaning process. Peeling away the words, destroying his own property in the process, felt like something he deserved. 

Penance. 

“Keith, take a break,” Pidge suggested. “It’s hot and you’ve been at it for hours. Maybe I can see if my dad has something to take it off.”

“I can’t,” Keith replied. “I have to… I have to do this.” He continued scraping even though Pidge was right. Doing this by hand would take him hours, days, maybe  _ weeks _ to remove but the only other option was to take the  _ bus _ to school and he wasn’t keen on that either, especially not now.

“Then at least let me help.” 

“It’s not your job, you didn’t do this.” Keith shook his head and frowned at the sound of dripping water. His hands clenched as he slowly turned to look over his shoulder and up at Lance standing behind him, dripping water all over the parched driveway. His eyes narrowed and Lance looked… ashamed? Keith couldn’t quite place his expression but he kept flickering between his corpse form and something more akin to human. 

“Stubborn.” 

The remark made Keith smirk and he gave Lance one more nasty glance before returning to his labor. 

“Is your dad at the hospital?” Pidge asked.

“Yeah.”

“So, he doesn’t know about…” 

“No.” 

“Do your parents know you’re– wait, that’s a stupid question.” Pidge snorted and shook her head. “Sorry. Obviously, they….” 

“Yeah, they know.” Keith looked over at Pidge and saw she was staring down the road which made him turn to look and see what she was squinting toward. Even from being at least a mile down the road, Keith could see a large caravan headed their way with two trucks leading and an RV bringing up the rear. 

He knew that RV.

“Shit.” Keith stood up, knocking gravel and dust from his knees as he rushed to the end of the driveway to wait on the RV and trucks to pull up. Pidge joined him at his side. 

“Who is that?”

He sighed. “My uncles.” 

“Do  _ they _ know–.” 

“No.” 

“Oh…. Shit.” 

He sighed again. “Yeah. Shit.” 

“Well… I guess… This is one way to tell them?” Pidge asked slowly, looking Keith over. “Are you sure you don’t want me to go home? Because I can get out of your hair.” 

The wind picked up, blowing Keith’s bangs across his forehead, too focused on the approaching family to take notice of Pidge’s questions. The two trucks parked on either side of the driveway, while the RV pulled up into the dirt driveway leading to the cattle barn, kicking up dust as it did. He hadn’t seen the old RV since he was a kid but it hadn’t changed at all – still old, rattly, and ugly.

“Your uncles travel weird,” Pidge whispered.

“You have  _ no _ idea,” Keith replied before slowly approaching the RV as the door burst open and Antok stood in the doorway. He was so tall and broad he had to duck and shimmy out sideways but as soon as he saw Keith, his beefy arms were wrapping around him in a hug so tight, Keith felt his spine crack. 

“There you are,” Antok said, lifting Keith off of the ground completely before setting him back down to take a look at him. “Talked to your mom on the phone as we drove over. Said you changed a lot and I gotta say, I like this new look. You were always a bit rough around the edges.” 

_ Changed a lot _ . 

Keith snorted at the implication as he thought on the last time he saw his uncles. He’d been ten years old and feeling broken for feeling trapped in his own body. The bullying had driven them from town but now after therapy, counseling, and HRT he was in a better place. He was just glad his mother had had a  _ talk _ with them before arriving and he didn’t have to explain the whole story. 

Kolivan eased out of the truck but he was going to look at Keith’s car and Keith sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. There was no way to explain  _ that _ but he hoped it was at least somewhat self-explanatory. 

“Where’s Uncle Regris?” he asked, looking around as Ulaz eased out of the RV next but as soon as he said it, Regris seemed to appear beside him, holding his white can in hand. 

“Keith,” he said, his voice as raspy and odd as Keith remembered it being. “A good name. Meaning  _ dwells in the forests _ or  _ from the battleground _ , depending on which origin you look to.” 

Regris, also as weird as Keith remembered him. 

“It’s good to see you all,” he said slowly.

“What happened to your vehicle?” Kolivan asked when they started walking toward the house where Pidge stood confused in the driveway. 

“Um, some asshole kids, I guess,” Keith said with a shrug. “I’m taking care of it.” 

“Poorly,” Antok said, going to touch the side of Keith’s car. “You’re ruining it.”

“Yeah, well, I couldn’t get it off so I had to do something.” Keith shoved his hands into his pockets and gave Pidge an apologetic glance for having to take the full force of the Marmora clan without preparation. 

“I will kill who has done this,” Antok growled, his hands clenched into fists. 

Keith snorted.  _ Tough chance _ , he thought but didn’t say anything in response. 

Regris approached the car and reached out his hand to place on the side and then sharply withdrew as if he were burned. “I do not think you will have a chance to murder who has done this, Antok,” Regris whispered. “They’re already dead.” 

Pidge’s eyebrows went up and Keith shook his head a little, hoping looking skeptical wouldn’t arouse her suspicions even if Keith’s soul felt ready to exit his body.

“Keith, I’m gonna go home,” Pidge said quickly which drew all of their eyes on her, except Regris who was still touching the car, feeling its energy. 

“Sorry, um, this is Pidge. My friend. Pidge, this is Ulaz, Kolivan, Antok, and Regris,” Keith said, gesturing to each of them. “Did you text Matt?” 

“He’s on his way,” Pidge replied with a nod. 

“Sorry,” Keith said again to her quietly when his uncles went back to inspecting his car as if they’d never seen one in their life. “Regris is a little…” He twirled his finger by his temple and Pidge snorted and covered her mouth to keep from laughing. 

“Got it,” she whispered back. 

They waited for Matt to arrive and Keith waved Pidge off before refocusing on the group. Regris was currently kneeling by the car’s door, both of his hands on the metal now, his eyes closed, and his head bowed in concentration. 

“Guys, let’s go inside,” Keith offered but Ulaz hushed him. 

“This spirit is very angry,” Regris whispered. “They’re… twisting, changing, they have so much rage inside. They’re sad. They want to move on but they cannot.” 

Panic filled Keith’s chest as Regris continued to read Lance’s energy. He remembered visiting his uncles as a child and Regris had always freaked him out due to his unseeing eyes and his affinity to speak to the dead. They called him a medium but Keith had never believed him to be the real deal. Until now.

“Seriously,” Keith said, his voice cracking in his panic. “Let’s go inside. I can deal with the car later.” 

Regris gasped but withdrew from the car, collapsing backward until Antok steadied him, his large hands always gentle with Regris.

“Reg?” Antok whispered. 

“The same spirit who harmed Krolia is the one who did this to Keith’s vehicle. He’s… out of control. Losing himself. He kept asking me for help,” Regris whispered. “But my connection to him was weak, I couldn’t quite draw him here.” 

Keith took a deep breath and prayed Lance didn’t tell Regris the truth. “Do you guys want to eat?” Keith asked, trying to pretend this isn't happening. 

“Keith,” Regris said quietly and Keith paused on his way to the door, his back to them, sweat forming over his skin like a cold blanket. He slowly turned to look at them and saw Lance standing beside Regris, water pouring out of his mouth, black and filled with dirt and river silt.

“What did you do?”

 

* * *

 

 

The football stadium was crowded and loud when Keith arrived late to the game. He hadn’t intended to come at all but in his haze, driving around town in his uncle’s borrowed truck, he’d found himself back at the school and staring at the football field while the teams played. 

They were winning by three points but Keith didn’t care. His eyes found Shiro’s jersey and he wondered how Shiro was doing – was he panicking as much as him? Was he holding it together better than him? Was he sick to his stomach at all hours of the day? 

Keith slid his fingers around the fence, gripping the cold metal tightly until the muscles in his wrists and hands protested. Everything felt dissonant and far away but Keith couldn’t bring himself to return to the present in full capacity. He kept flying back to the moment he’d almost told Regris everything. 

_ “What did you do?”  _

The question still burned the back of his mind and after asking, Keith had stumbled for an answer, but then Regris had seemed confused. Lance had been talking to him, Keith had seen his lips move but nothing he could hear. Whatever he’d said had appeased his uncle into silence and they’d gone into the house to start cleansing. 

He didn’t know what Lance had said. He didn’t know why Lance hadn’t confessed. 

The whistle blew for half-time and Keith slowly startled back into his body. The night was chilly, one of the first cold nights they’d had this year, and despite putting on a jacket before leaving the house, he still shivered. Keith remained by the fence, just watching the cheerleaders and the band roll out to do a half-time show, while the team went to rest and talk about plays. 

Keith trained his eyes on Shiro’s jersey and followed his movements silently. He wondered if last summer hadn’t happened if they would still be friends. Maybe more if Shiro could have finally braved coming out. Maybe they would be going to the dance tomorrow night together. Maybe everything would be exactly the same and nothing would be different. 

> _ Talk to him.  _

Keith shuddered at Lance’s voice and refused to face the specter. “He’s busy,” he replied quietly. “What did you tell my uncle?” 

> _ I told him you did nothing.  _

“Why?”

> _ It’s not his job to do the right thing. That’s on you. You have to do the right thing. You and Shiro. You have to confess.  _

“He says you’re angry. Changing.” Keith slowly glanced back but Lance wasn’t there and he wondered if he’d ever been there at all or maybe his brain was making Lance appear when he felt the most guilty. 

Keith swallowed weakly and turned to dig out the last of his cash to go buy something to eat. His hands and body felt weak and shaky, signaling he needed something before he fainted for the third time in the past few days. The line was long but Keith stood to wait regardless. The passage of time felt fake to him and before he realized, he found himself standing by the fence again, eating a hot dog. He didn’t even remember buying one or handing over money or interacting with people. 

Everything was a blur. 

The football team returned to the field but Keith was bored of the game and instead went to find a space under the bleachers to smoke and finish his hot dog in peace. There were several couples already finding prime spots to make out but Keith walked to the end, toward the tree lining, to cram the last bit of hot dog into his mouth and pat his jacket to find his lighter and cigarettes. A bad habit he wanted to kick but a habit that helped his nerves. 

“Hey,” came a silky voice, startling him into turning around to see someone slip out of the shadows. The voice belonged to a boy he’d never seen before with long white hair and nicely tanned skin and golden eyes. “Can I get a light?” 

Keith stared at him, taken aback by his appearance, a cigarette dangling from his lips but he offered his lighter anyway. 

“Thank you.” 

Keith surveyed the stranger some more, his eyes trailing over his all black clothes and the jewels glittering on his fingers. He was heartbreakingly beautiful, the kind of handsome white, middle-aged women dreamt up for their romance novels. He stood tall, too, taller than Shiro probably, Keith realized. Once he lit his cigarette, he offered the lighter in turn to light Keith’s for him, which Keith allowed before taking the lighter back to pocket. 

“I’m Lotor,” the stranger said, offering a hand while the other held his cigarette, blowing silver smoke into the night air. 

Keith accepted the handshake slowly. When their skin touched, Keith almost startled and pulled away as he felt a shock run through his system and a flash of crows and something dark and shadowy passed before his eyes in a vision. “Keith,” he said quietly. 

“It’s good to meet you, Keith.”

“Do you go here? I’ve never seen you before.”

Lotor’s smile was sharp and white in the darkness. A flash of perfection as he lifted the cigarette back to his cupid’s bow lips. “Not exactly,” Lotor replied after a pause to take a drag from the cigarette. The end lighted red like cherries against the darkness. 

Keith didn’t know what that meant and he didn’t ask anything else. They smoked in silent solidarity until Lotor flicked the butt away into the grass and left. Keith didn’t move to stop him, still disturbed by the earlier vision. Touching Lotor had given him the chills and his body was still shaking – from hunger or fear, Keith didn’t know, but the sound of the game ending drew his attention.

They had won. 

The crowd cheered loudly, despite their mourning and pain. Lance would have been glad to see them win. After the game, everyone started to leave, heading back to their cars and lives. Keith stayed in the shadows of the bleachers, waiting for the football team to march back toward the locker room. Once they appeared, Keith followed suit, shoving his cold hands into his pockets. A line of crows rested along the fence line, all of their heads moving to watch the football team pass by like a funeral procession. 

Keith coughed and gagged at the smell they produced. The largest crow flapped its wings and soared to land heavily on Shiro’s shoulder. It watched Keith follow them and linger in the shadows to wait for their exit. Its eyes glowed red in the darkness.

Time ticked by and Keith remained leaning back against the building to wait, smoking another cigarette to pass the time. When the doors finally opened, he hastily ground the cigarette under his boot and waited until he spotted Shiro’s broad shoulders, his shirt damp from the shower he must have taken. 

“Shiro,” he called, cutting through the celebratory laughter and talk post the game.

Shiro froze at the sound of Keith’s voice but turned to face him. “Keith. What are you doing here?” 

“I need to talk to you,” he said. “Remember?” 

“Right…” Shiro waved his friends off and waited for the area to empty until they were the only ones standing at the back of the school where it was dark save for one lonely security light. 

“Has there been any more news about Lance?” Keith asked quietly, scuffing his boot along the ground. 

“I don’t know, I’ve been avoiding the news,” Shiro admitted. “Keith, what if…” 

“No one can know, Shiro. There’s no way anyone can know. He’s been gone for  _ one year _ in that river. No one’s come bowling down our doors. It’s fine.” Keith wrapped his arms around his middle as a way to protect and self-soothe. 

Shiro took a deep breath and ran a hand along the back of his neck. “You’re probably right,” he whispered. “What if… What if everything we did...  I’m just so afraid.” 

“Shiro, I told you that night I would keep this secret, no matter what. I’ve kept all of your secrets, haven’t I?” He looked up at Shiro slowly, studying the way Shiro’s eyes reminded him of dark clouds. They were black pits in the darkness tonight. Lost and afraid. “We’re the only ones who know.” 

Shiro held out his hand then and Keith raised an eyebrow. “Make a pact with me, right now, we don’t talk. No more talking about it. Ever.”

“Shiro…”

“Promise me, Keith. If… If they come for us, we don’t talk. No deals. We stick to the same story from before. Deal?” Shiro reached to grab Keith’s hand and shake it despite Keith not offering. “Deal.” 

Keith slowly nodded and gripped Shiro’s hand firmly. “Deal.” 

The black crow returned to Shiro’s shoulder, beating its wings in Keith’s face, and stared down at Keith accusingly. He felt ghostly fingers grip the back of his neck. 

 

> _ Everyone will know your secrets.  _


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Triggers for language/thoughts of suicide & abuse

“Takashi, are you ready, I want to take pictures before you leave!” 

Shiro straightened his tie one final time in front of the mirror and debated on calling off the whole thing but then Allura would be mad for bailing last minute. She’d spent a lot on her dress and he couldn’t ruin her Homecoming just because he wasn’t looking forward to the dance. 

“Takashi!” 

Shiro rolled his eyes and turned to open his bedroom door to stare down at his mother who was already holding a camera. “I’m ready, Mother,” he replied quietly. 

“Good. Good. Go downstairs and pose in front of the front entryway, I think the lighting is best there.” 

He had to hold himself back from rolling his eyes again in front of her as he slowly walked downstairs to where his father already stood, his arms crossed, to inspect him. Shiro stood still while his father walked a circle around him, tightened his tie, and then nodded before leaving the room to let his mother fawn and take photos. 

Allura wasn’t even here, Shiro couldn’t imagine the level of Annie Leibovitz his mother would turn into if she had been. He allowed her to pose him around the front entryway, taking enough photos to fill a flipbook. He checked his watch a few times and knew he had to leave soon.

“Mother, I have to  _ go _ ,” he said as she posed him in front of the front room’s window. The high ceilinged area contained a mirror right across from the window and Shiro stood to face it, trying not to look annoyed as his mother raised her camera to take another photo. 

“Just a few more, Takashi. It’s your senior year, your last Homecoming and you’re going to be voted Homecoming  _ King _ , I can just feel it.” 

Once again, Shiro had to restrain himself from rolling his eyes while he turned on a plastic smile. The flash burned his eyes and when she was finally done firing the camera, surveying the photos, Shiro blinked spots of colors out of his vision. When he glanced at the mirror behind his mother, his heart jumped into his throat when he saw a shadow pass across the glass. 

_ Just a passing car. It’s nothing _ .

He squinted and focused on the mirror but nothing else appeared so he shook his head and brushed it off as paranoia. 

“May I go now?” Shiro asked, ready to bolt out of the house and loosen his tie. 

“Yes, yes, go ahead. Have a good time. Take lots of photos for me.” She walked up to kiss his cheek and Shiro bent at the waist so she could. “My handsome boy.” 

“Bye, Mother.” Shiro hugged her briefly and turned to go but again his eyes caught something moving in the mirror. When he jerked his head around to look, there was nothing there except the two of them.

“What?” his mother asked him, tilting her head and turning to look at the mirror herself. 

“Nothing. I thought I saw something.” Shiro shook his head and his mother sighed. 

“You watch too many horror movies, Takashi.”

“Yeah…” He slowly grabbed his keys and walked out of the house to go and pick Allura up for his pretend date. They were going to meet Romelle at the restaurant so Allura could have a real date with her girlfriend. He’d told her he would have rented a limo for them but Allura had shaken her head and said wait for prom so he’d pulled out fewer stops for Homecoming. Romelle was buying the flowers and he was really just the chauffeur.

He eased into his Jeep and felt a cold chill run down his spine as he turned the car on and fiddled with the radio before hitting reverse to ease out of the driveway. The neighborhood was quiet and still, save for a few crows hanging out on their mailbox. Shiro honked his horn on the way by and they fluttered into the air, startled by the noise. 

Allura’s house was on private, gated property and when he pulled up he had to wait for the gates to buzz open so he could drive down the long driveway to the Altea’s mansion. Alfor Altea owned most of the city, including the school, and made Shiro’s parents look like paupers. When he arrived, Shiro’s eyes dragged across his rearview as he eased out and his heart slammed hard into his throat when he caught sight of someone sitting in the backseat. He spun around but the back seat was empty but his nerves were a jumbled mess as he approached the front door. 

The maid answered and allowed him into the foyer where Allura was already posing in a silver gown for her parents. He smiled slightly and lifted his hand in a wave. She was beautiful as always and sometimes Shiro felt sad he couldn’t want her the way his parents wanted him to. The way his parents believed he did. 

“Shiro,” Allura said, walking up to him to give him a brief, chaste kiss. “You look great.” 

“You, too,” he said with a nod. 

“No flowers?” Alfor asked, looking disapproving. 

“Father, I told Shiro not to bother with flowers,” Allura swept him to save face. “I didn’t want any and they just die anyway.” 

Alfor huffed but didn’t say anything else and once again they were placed through a series of poses for pictures until finally they were able to walk out to his Jeep.

“I  _ never _ thought they were going to let us leave,” Allura laughed as Shiro opened her door and helped her ease into the car so she didn’t rip her dress. “Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome.” He shut the door and once again saw someone in the side mirror, making him spin around but still, there was no one and nothing behind them. The driveway was clear. 

_ Pull yourself together, Takashi. You’re fine.  _ Shiro drew another deep breath in to calm himself down and shake some of his nerves off. They would go to the restaurant, meet Romelle, Allura would have a great time, and then he would take them to the dance, do some obligatory socialization, then they would excuse themselves and he would drive the girls somewhere so they could make out in his backseat. Then, finally, he would go home and the night would be over. 

No more obligations until prom. 

“Ready to go?” Allura asked and Shiro realized he’d been sitting behind the steering wheel and not doing anything. “Shiro?” 

“Sorry,” he said quickly and started the car back up, making sure the air conditioning wasn’t to cold but the night was somewhere between warm and cool. Fall was close but not close enough for Shiro’s taste. He preferred winter months – partially because of the weather but mostly because he no longer had to play football.

“Are you okay?” Allura asked him while they drove toward the restaurant pre-picked by the girls. “You seem… off.”

“I’m fine,” he lied. He hadn’t been okay since the news story of Lance’s body washing up – actually, he hadn’t been okay since last summer but she didn’t need to know all of that. 

“You know, you could have asked Keith,” Allura whispered and Shiro gripped the steering wheel harder. “I’m sure he would have said yes.” 

“He hates me.” The words came out clipped and dark but it was the truth. A well-earned truth and a truth that left him in pain, too. 

“He doesn’t  _ hate _ you.” 

“He should.” 

Allura sighed and shook her head, dropping the matter completely. The rest of the ride was silent until they reached the restaurant and he walked in to give his name for the table and Allura and Romelle greeted with hugs and selfies. They both looked beautiful and Shiro felt their relationship was so tragic, he was glad he wasn’t in the same situation. Besides, Keith never would have pretended to take Romelle out just to be with him. 

They sat in a corner table, where Romelle could easily slide up to Allura’s side and they shared a menu, hiding behind it to kiss and giggle and whisper. Shiro looked over his own menu but he wasn’t that hungry. The only feeling he had in the moment was a weight of loneliness resting on his chest. 

_ You could have asked Keith _ . 

Maybe Allura was right and maybe he  _ should _ have asked Keith to Homecoming. They could have just gone as  _ friends _ and then he could have dragged Keith to the bathroom for kissing and touching and a good time. Hell, they could have made out in the front seat of his Jeep while the girls took up the back but the thought immediately brought shame and a red heat to his face. Just  _ thinking _ about being with a guy brought humiliation to him and he hated himself for being so broken. 

More than anything, Shiro wanted to be straight. He wanted to like girls so he didn’t have this  _ shame _ sitting on him every single time he pulled up Grindr and then chickened out before he could actually hook up with a guy. Every time he thought on Keith and what they could have been if last summer had not happened. Maybe they would be sitting side by side right now, holding hands under the table, sharing a menu. 

The what if game brought a new wave of depression and Shiro had to push the thoughts aside so he wasn’t so empty feeling inside. Sometimes, he wondered if the world would just be better if he weren’t in it. 

“Shiro.” 

Shiro blinked and looked up from the menu and realized their waitress was standing there, waiting to take his order. “Sorry,” he said. “I’ll just have Coke and the sliders appetizer.” 

The waitress whisked off to put their orders in and Allura looked at him with concern but Shiro turned his gaze to look anywhere but at them. They were on a date, he was just there for the ride. Romelle was quick to regain Allura’s attention and Shiro kept to himself, quiet, and feeling like a sham. 

He wondered if Keith were going to the dance. 

After Friday, he wasn’t sure Keith was going to be coming. Shiro had asked around trying to find out who had trashed Keith’s car because he was going to kill whoever had done it but no one had fessed up even under pain of a serious ass kicking if they didn’t. Everyone seemed just as shocked as Keith, so Shiro wasn’t sure who had painted his car. He’d wanted to text Keith, to ask if he needed to talk but he always too afraid to start up a conversation as if they didn’t have bad blood between them. 

He’d tried to do that once and Keith and quickly shot him down. 

When the food arrived, Shiro picked at the little sliders, not even bothering to eat one, while Romelle and Allura ate and giggled and looked to be having a good time. Two out of three was better than none. Shiro picked up his fork to poke at his sliders and froze when he saw something in the reflection of the shiny metal. He tilted the fork this way and that until finally it settled on a face. 

A face he knew. 

A face he hadn’t seen in a year.

His breathing picked up as he stared in horror at Lance’s face, where he sat right beside him in the booth. The rotted image made any hunger he could have felt immediately sap away and his hands began to shake so badly, the ford clattered onto the plate and then the floor. 

“Shiro?” Allura asked, the concern returning to her voice. “Wow, you’re white as a sheet. Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he whispered, clambering out of the booth. “I just have to go to the bathroom. I’ll be back.” 

Before either of them could ask any more questions, Shiro fled to the bathroom and locked the door, leaning back against it to try to catch his breath. Panic made him sick to his stomach as he slowly approached the sink to turn on the tap and splash cold water over his face. He stared down into the cold veneer, too afraid to look up into the mirror. Water pooled at the bottom and Shiro watched as a shadow passed over his shoulder until he realized he was looking at fingers wrapping around his shoulder. Cold shot down his spine and Shiro stood up straight, slamming a hand over his mouth so he didn’t scream at the vision in the mirror.

Lance stood behind him, dripping water all over the place, his face rotted and dirty from being in a river so long. One of his eyes was missing and water spilled out of his open jaw. Gnawed fingers clamped down tightly along his right shoulder, sending cold needles down his entire arm. Bile rose up in his throat but Shiro was frozen to the spot, unable to look away or move.

Lance shuffled closer until he saw the ghost lean in to whisper something in his ear Shiro couldn’t hear. He felt cold breath against his skin and certain he could smell rotting fish. Finally, he tore himself away from the mirror and turned to throw up in the toilet. The cold feeling vanished but he still felt shaky and unsteady when he straightened to flush the toilet and rinse his mouth out. When he dared to look in the mirror, Lance was no longer there and Shiro blamed his own movie watching habits and his penchant to not sleep at night like he should for the reason he was seeing a dead boy. 

Ghosts and spirits were things he believed in but he’d never interacted with one before now. He remembered a time when Keith had come to his house and they’d sat up extremely late and waited for ghosts to come. Shiro had even managed to make his own EMF reader after learning how to online but the only scary thing to pop out of the dark that night had been his cat, scaring them both into screaming and running back to his bedroom to hide in their pillow fort. 

The memory made Shiro feel a little warmer, steadier, as he went to rejoin the girls. When he arrived, they were looking ready to leave, their plates empty and holding the check. Shiro took the check to pay, having already told them he would buy them dinner since that was the man’s job anyway. 

“Shiro, are you  _ sure _ you’re alright?” Allura asked on their way to Shiro’s Jeep where Romelle was already opening the backseat to let Allura in.

“I’m fine,” he lied for the second time. 

“You didn’t even eat anything,” Romelle said, holding Allura’s hand. “And I would have paid for my dinner.” 

“It’s fine. It’s all fine. I’m fine and you’re fine and we’re all just fine.” He knew he wasn’t making sense but the evening was not off to a good start and the loneliness he felt was turning into jealousy when he saw how easy Romelle and Allura were together. 

“Okay. You’re fine, we got it,” Romelle said with a roll of her eyes before turning to kiss Allura fully on the mouth. 

Shiro averted his gaze from the eager necking, focusing on the road and not any mirrors as they drove to the school. The Homecoming Committee had worked hard in decorating this year, the theme being Haunted House on the Hill which Shiro had been a fan of before seeing a fucking real ghost in a mirror just a while ago. He wasn’t so sure how badly he wanted to go inside now but maybe Lance wouldn’t be able to follow him around if he was surrounded by people. 

They walked into the school as a threesome and he and Allura went to have an official photo taken before Romelle stole Allura away and they disappeared into the dance floor. The room was packed and decorated extremely well with lots of well placed Halloween decorations even if the holiday was almost a month away still. A fog machine made the room hazy which Shiro supposed was to Allura’s and Romelle’s benefit but it made everything more obscure for Shiro and he was already jumpy. 

When one of his friends placed a hand on their shoulder, he almost turned to deck them until he realized they weren’t a demon or ghost. Shiro listened to the guys talk about their dates but his eyes were quickly trained on someone he recognized and couldn’t believe had shown up.

Keith stood with Pidge, looking uncomfortable in a suit, his unruly hair slicked back while Pidge was straightening his tie. Shiro’s breath felt stolen away at the sight of Keith; he looked so beautiful and handsome all at once. He was the most amazing guy Shiro knew.

“Uh, I gotta… go to the bathroom,” Shiro lied, slipping out of his friend’s circle to slowly approach Pidge and Keith. 

“If you tie that any tighter, I’m going to faint,” Keith was saying, his voice on edge and annoyed.

“It looks  _ fine _ , chill out,” Pidge replied and then froze when she saw Shiro. “Uh, hi.” 

“Hi,” Shiro said slowly, his heart racing faster than it had in the bathroom earlier. His palms were sweaty and he couldn’t believe he felt so nervous around Keith. He was a goddamn disaster. 

Keith slowly turned to face him, looking confused and surprised to see him. “Shouldn’t you be sucking face with Allura right about now?” 

“Um, I’m gonna… go get some punch,” Pidge said before ducking away, leaving them alone. 

Shiro rubbed the back of his neck and shrugged. “She’s hanging with Romelle. I’m just the chauffeur.” 

“How chivalrous of you,” Keith replied, his voice monotone and cold. 

“I, uh, tried to find out who did that to your car but I couldn’t find out… I’m not sure anyone from school did it,” Shiro said slowly with a helpless shrug. He hated that he couldn’t whisk in and save Keith from this kind of pain and hurt. “I’m… so sorry, Keith.” 

Keith shrugged and looked away, scuffing his chucks against the floor. Shiro smiled slightly at the sight of the beat-up tennis shoes to go with the suit he had on. Only Keith would do something like that but Shiro couldn’t blame him. Dress shoes weren’t exactly comfortable if they weren’t expensive. 

He wanted to ask Keith o dance but a nagging voice reminded him that he couldn’t. They couldn't dance here or act like a couple – which they weren’t. 

“What are you doing after the dance?” Shiro asked. Maybe, he could invite Keith back with them and they could have some alone time. 

“I don’t know, probably going to Pidge’s place. My uncles have kinda taken over my place and it’s…  _ super _ crowded in there right now.” Keith crossed his arms over his chest, a defensive maneuver that stated Keith was uncomfortable. 

He hated that he made Keith uncomfortable. 

“Do you want to come back with me?” Shiro asked slowly. “I’m taking the girls up to, uh, Ridge’s Point to… well… you know.” He snorted and blushed. “You could come, too, if you wanted.” 

“I’m  _ not _ making out with you,” Keith snapped. 

“NO! I– I don’t expect that. I just thought we could hang out… Escape all this bullshit for a while.” Shiro gestured around them and he hoped Keith understood he meant the Lance ordeal, too. “You don’t have to, I just… I’d like it if you came.” 

Keith looked unsure but he finally nodded. “Okay. Fine.” 

“Great.  _ Great _ . We’ll probably dip out after they announce Homecoming King and Queen, is tha okay?” Shiro asked and Keith nodded again. “So, meet us out front then?”

“Sure, Shiro.” 

“Cool. I’ll see you then.” Shiro left Keith, his heart once again hammering away against his chest but a smile lifted his spirits and his lips as he crossed the room to dance once with Allura and Romelle. He was going to take Keith to Ridge’s Point. The thought couldn’t have made him happier. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


Vodka burned on the way down but the shot definitely helped loosen him up while they all sat in the car together on top of Ridge’s Point. There were a few other cars already parked out there but no one would bother them as long as they kept everything low key. Romelle accepted the vodka bottle back and she and Allura were eager to share it while they made out in the back seat. 

Shiro tried to keep his eyes on the dashboard but every now and again he felt his eyes flick back as he blushed and saw Allura’s skirt pushed up, Romelle’s fingers busily working in her white lace panties. He gripped the steering wheel a little tighter and gulped down a lump of nerves. 

He wanted that to be him. He wanted to be touching Keith that way. 

“Can we turn the radio on?” Keith asked and Shiro jumped to set up his cell phone, placing it in its little holder so they could have music playing to drown out Allura’s soft moaning. “Thanks.” 

“Sorry,” Shiro whispered, suddenly wishing his Jeep had a partition.

“It’s whatever.” Keith looked out the window and slumped in his seat. He’d abandoned his suit jacket and sat with one of his knees up on the dashboard, his other leg stretched out as far as he could in front of him. Shiro noted his sleeves were rolled up, revealing his forearms which had gained definition since he really looked last. Keith had been hitting the gym. 

“You look good,” Shiro offered. “Fit.” 

“I’m not making out with you, so forget it, Shiro,” Keith snapped. 

“I know,” Shiro whispered. “But if you wanted to…” 

“I don’t.” 

“Okay.” He looked down at his lap and kept focusing on  _ not _ watching the girls have a good time because it wasn’t his business, even if he felt curious. Not for a sexual way but he wanted tips – Romelle had a kind of confidence Shiro wanted to have with Keith.

“Why’d you even invite me out here?” Keith asked after another moment of awkward quiet between them. “If not to make out with me.” 

“I just wanted to hang out like we used to.” 

“ _ Why _ ?” 

“Because… I miss being your friend,” Shiro admitted sheepishly. Keith had always been the best friend he could have ever dreamt of or asked for. Loyal to a fault and eccentric and fun, Keith had always been there for him and never gave up on Shiro. No matter what. 

“You weren’t ever my friend, Shiro,” Keith said. “If you had been my friend, you would have told people we were friends.” 

“I know… I know and I'm so sorry about that. I let popularity get to my head. I let my  _ parents _ get to my head. Everything’s gotten so fucked up lately and I’m just really sorry, Keith.” Shiro reached over to place a hand on Keith’s shoulder. Nothing sexual, just friendly. 

Keith slowly glanced over at him, finally, making eye contact with him. “You are?”

“Yes. I really am.” 

“Why now?” 

A fair question and sometimes Shiro asked himself the same thing but a lot of it had to do with it being senior year and he wasn’t sure where he would end up next year. Popularity quit mattering when he crossed the stage to accept his diploma. Friendship didn’t. 

“I don’t know where I'll be next year. What school will want me or… what I’ll be doing but I know that I want to make amends with you. And with everything  _ else _ going on, I just, I just really want to make up for being  _ such _ a dick.” Shiro squeezed Keith’s shoulder and then withdrew his hand but Keith reached out to take his hand instead. 

Keith’s palm was cool in comparison to his own sweaty one and his skin calloused and rough from working outside and doing farmwork. His hands were hands he wanted to place on his skin and be branded for life. More than anything, Shiro wanted to be Keith’s. 

“Shiro,” Keith said quietly, his eyes down and his cheeks flushed. From vodka or maybe arousal Shiro wasn’t sure. “I want to be your boyfriend more than anything but you have to be willing to come out.” 

Shiro didn’t know what possessed his tongue next but he heard himself agreeing. “I will,” he said, leaning in closer to Keith, ready to kiss him when Keith gave the signal it was okay. “I want to. I’m tired of hiding.” 

“Do you mean that?” 

“Yes.” 

“Swear it.” 

“I swear, Keith, I want to come out. I want to be with you.” Shiro leaned closer and when Keith didn’t try to stop him, he closed the gap and pressed his lips to Keith’s, eager to taste a mouth he’d been craving for so long. 

Keith kissed Shiro back and Shiro shifted to help Keith ease across the console and rest sideways on his lap, with Keith’s legs draping onto the passenger’s seat. Shiro sighed, slouching in his seat more to give Keith more room while they kissed. He slid his fingers and tangled them into Keith’s slicked back hair, tearing through the gel’s stiffness. Keith moaned, tilting his head back so Shiro could kiss his neck next. 

He sucked the flesh, worrying it between his teeth to worry a hickey as a mark Keith could carry into the following week. Shiro’s hands wandered until he found himself unzipping Keith’s trousers, trying to feel which underwear Keith had on tonight. 

“Shiro, wait–,” Keith gasped, his hands tightening on Shiro’s wrist. 

“C’mon, please?” Shiro whispered, the alcohol fueling his escapade. “No one can see. Just us.” 

Keith stared at him, his face flushed and his pupils blown out in his galaxy eyes, like a black hole, sucking Shiro in further and further. He wanted to go swimming in Keith’s eyes. Finally, Keith’s hands loosened on Shiro’s wrist and he slid his hand further into Keith’s fly, fingers brushing over the briefs he wore, searching and feeling against his cunt.

“Fuck,” Shiro hissed, teasing over his underwear until they were damp. 

Keith whimpered and spread his legs wider until he couldn’t stand it and Shiro helped him push his pants down to his thighs. Moonlight silvered Keith’s thighs and Shiro slid his fingers into his own mouth to suck before dipping them around Keith’s underwear to rub against his hardening little cock. 

“I love your dick,” Shiro whispered, running his teeth and tongue against Keith’s earlobe. 

Keith moaned, his eyes shutting while Shiro worried his neck some more, giving him another hickey, still rubbing and teasing Keith’s cock. He rolled it between two fingers, wanting to work his fingers inside but he wanted explicit permission for something like that. He just rubbed and teased, jerking Keith off and listening to him pant and whimper. 

“Shiro,” Keith panted. “I’m– ah- fuck- I’m coming, I’m coming!” Keith cried out and slammed his thighs tight around Shiro’s hand and wrist. Shiro stilled his fingers, breathing hard as he could feel Keith's cunt pulse with each little orgasmic wave. 

“Fuck,” Shiro whispered as he pulled his fingers free to suck them clean. Keith blushed and Shiro smirked up at him. 

Allura and Romelle were still going at it in the back seat and Shiro wanted to keep going with Keith but he wasn’t sure what Keith wanted. Keith remained quiet on his lap, regaining his breath and faculties slowly.

“Do you want to keep going?” Shiro asked, his own cock so hard behind his zipper it hurt but he was doing his best to ignore his own arousal for Keith’s sake. 

Keith licked his lips and nodded, leaning down to kiss him again. “Shiro,” he whispered. “Fuck me.”

“Keith…” He wasn’t sure he wanted to fuck Keith in his car with an audience but his cock hurt so badly and the idea of Keith wrapped around him, so wet and hot like velvet made him weak in the knees. “Are you sure? Right now?” 

“Yes,” Keith said, already kicking his pants and shoes off the rest of the way and rolling his underwear off until he was naked from the waist down in Shiro’s lap. Shiro dropped his eyes down to the thick, wild hair on Keith’s sex and how it glimmered wetly in the moonlight. His cock twitched in his pants. 

“Okay,” Shiro whispered and hoped he had a condom in his wallet. “Uh…” Shiro lifted his hips to fish out the leather wallet, pulling it open until he found the Trojan he’d gotten from a friend recently. A joke about him and Allura fucking but he’d never had plans to use it until now. 

Keith took the condom while Shiro unzipped to pull his cock free, letting the weight of it rest against his stomach. Keith eased the seat back more to make things more comfortable and tore the condom open, wrapping it around Shiro awkwardly. Condoms were not the easiest thing and it took some finagling but once he was ready, they stopped to stare at one another. 

“Now what?” Keith asked. 

“Uh….” Shiro fumbled and was unsure before reaching to rub against Keith’s cunt again, teasing and looking for his hole. “Here?” he asked as he slowly pressed a finger inside. 

Keith moaned and nodded, letting Shiro finger him slowly, stretching him open. No amount of preparation would ever really prepare Keith in this situation, Shiro knew, for his dick but Keith had wanted this. He wasn’t going to say  _ no _ when Keith was asking for this. Lust made them both eager and clumsy, while Keith tried to take Shiro’s cock inside, wincing at the stretch. 

“Keith, are you sure you want to do this– we can stop,” Shiro panted, even if he wanted to do anything but stop. 

Keith’s legs were shaking as he kept easing down further and further, his eyebrows pinched in pain. “I’m fine,” he whispered. 

“Keith–.” But Shiro cut off when finally Keith was able to rest on top of him and Shiro realized he was buried deep inside. He had to restrain himself from just bouncing Keith on his lap immediately, his hands going to Keith’s hips to hold. 

They kissed and the car suddenly felt hot and Shiro realized they were both shaking and sweating. The sounds of the radio still covered up Romelle’s and Allura’s moans but Shiro could feel them moving around in the back. Keith glanced back there and laughed, dropping his forehead to Shiro’s shoulder. 

“They’re having fun,” he whispered in Shiro’s ear before rolling his hips once.

Shiro grunted at the pleasure as Keith slowly rolled and bucked his hips. He gripped Keith’s sides, his fingers digging into Keith’s soft flesh, sliding his fingers up his back, shoving his shirt up until he felt Keith’s binder but he kept his hands away from Keith’s chest. He knew Keith was sensitive about that area of his body. 

Keith set the pace and at first, it was slow but the more confident Keith became, the more eager he was and the Jeep was quickly rocking from all of their efforts. Shiro’s toes curled tightly in his shoes as he tried to hold back his orgasm. He could feel Keith dragged his cock over his pelvis and he was so wet, that was the only sound Shiro could hear over the music.

A moan in the shape of Keith’s name rolled out of his mouth while Keith’s hands gripped his chest through his dress shirt, popping buttons until they were touching flesh to flesh. Shiro gasped, bucking hips once before controlling himself again to stay still and let Keith make all of the moves. 

“I’m coming again,” Keith panted in his ear, still riding hard and fast now. When Keith’s cunt squeezed him, Shiro was done for and all he could see were stars and feel himself call Keith’s name again. Loudly. 

Keith settled heavily on top of him, while Shiro still rested inside until he was too soft and he had to pull out, the condom hanging uncomfortably. He blushed when Keith reached down to pull it off and roll the window down just enough to toss it outside. His cock twitched a little when Keith settled on top of him, his thighs shaking with the effort. 

“Wow,” Shiro whispered, trying to calm his heart back down to a normal level so he could breathe. 

“Yeah,” Keith agreed, panting. 

“Uh, Shiro, I hate to break up this party but I’m pretty sure I just saw blue lights,” Romelle said, drawing both of them back to where they were. 

Shiro startled and Keith practically flung himself back into the passenger’s seat to yank his underwear back on. Shiro turned, blushing at the sight of Allura with her legs spread, totally fucked out, to confirm there were definitely cops pulling up.

“We gotta go, hold on,” Shiro said, throwing the car into reverse and racing off into the night following two other cars as they peeled out of there before the cops caught them making out and fucking. 

Romelle laughed and Keith was grinning as Shiro’s Jeep bumped and jerked down the road until they finally hit pavement and could drive normally back to Allura’s house first. When Keith reached over to zip him up, his face turned even redder but he kept his eyes on the road, trying to stay focused, and not with the idea of Keith’s mouth wrapped around his dick. 

They pulled up to Allura’s driveway just in time for Allura to make curfew. She leaned over to kiss Romelle once and then winked at Shiro and Keith before straightening her dress out the best she could, slowly walking back to the house. Shiro waved, taking a deep breath, and turning his embarrassed gaze back to Romelle. 

“Uh, I’ll need your address to take you home,” he said.

“1210 Tanglewood,” she said replied, her eyes still on Allura. “Guess you two had a good time, too.” 

Shiro coughed but didn’t say anything about the  _ good time _ he had with Keith, simply taking her home. Romelle waved to them playfully and Shiro waited for her to be inside before finally driving away. He wondered if he needed to take Keith home or if Keith could stay at his place.

“Do you, uh, need to go home?” Shiro asked, his hands gripping tightly on the steering wheel as he drove back down Romelle’s street. If he turned left, he would be headed toward Keith’s house but if he turned right, he would be able to take Keith to his house. He desperately wanted to turn right.

“No,” Keith said with a smirk. “My parents think I’m with Pidge.” 

“Okay,” he said and turned right, a smirk on his lips. “Good.” 

“Can we stop and get food, I’m  _ starving _ . Especially if we’re going to go a few more rounds.”

Shiro blushed and coughed but nodded. “Sure thing. What do you want? McDonald’s?” Keith loved McDonald’s. 

“Yes. Please.” 

“Okay.” The rest of the ride was quiet and Shiro still couldn’t believe he’d really just had sex with Keih, a guy he’d been wanting to have sex with for a long time. He couldn’t believe he’d had sex  _ with a guy _ .

“You do realize, you are the gayest fucking fag on the planet now, right?” Keith asked while he munched on his fries on their way back to Shiro’s house. “And your parents are gonna know that.” 

Keith saying it out loud made a new roil of panic fill Shiro’s chest but he just nodded, trying to keep his hands steady. The ride back to his house wasn’t long enough and he had no idea how to explain why Keith was here again, after not being friends for a year. 

“Your mom still hate me?” Keith asked. 

“Probably,” Shiro replied, letting Keith into the house. He took his shoes off immediately and Keith did the same. At least, Keith knew the rules in his house. Slippers on and no shoes are worn around the house. 

“Are they asleep?” Keith whispered.

The house was extremely quiet but maybe his parents had gone to bed and left their son to do whatever he wanted which didn’t sound like them but he supposed they were being more trusting since he had a girlfriend. Shiro shrugged, thanking his luck, and dragged Keith upstairs before his parents were aware he had a guest. 

“Shit, I left my phone in the car,” Shiro whispered once they were in his bedroom, shutting the door and locking it firmly. 

“Leave it,” Keith said. He shrugged one shoulder and then started to undress. 

Shiro gulped and tried not to stare too much, wondering if Keith had been serious about the second round comment earlier. He kept his gaze averted but Keith only slid out of his pants, dress shirt, and underwear, leaving his undershirt and binder on. 

“Do you want a t-shirt to wear?” Shiro asked. “I can get you one. You shouldn’t wear your binder all night, Keith.” 

Keith looked over at him and the way the moon fell on his face broke Shiro’s heart. He was so beautiful. “Don’t look.” 

“I won’t,” Shiro said, going to grab a big t-shirt from a drawer and promptly turning his back while Keith changed. “You ready?” 

“Just a second,” Keith grunted and Shiro could hear signs of a struggle but he refrained from turning to look. Keith  _ really _ didn’t like people seeing his chest and Shiro respected that. 

“Keith?” 

“I got it, I got it. You can turn back around.” 

Shiro obliged and saw Keith toss his clothes onto a chair before going to lay down on the bed, sprawling out on his stomach and hugging a pillow. “Comfy?” Shiro asked. 

“I forgot how nice your bed is,” Keith replied. 

Shiro thought back on all of the times they’d slept in the same bed together and how uncomfortable Keith had been. Once he’d found out Keith was trans, things had made more sense but now they were  _ dating _ , so maybe he would see more of Keith than he’d ever seen before. 

“You too tired to do anything else?” Shiro wondered as he, too, stripped down to his underwear to join Keith on the bed. He trailed his hand up the back of Keith’s thigh to cup his butt, teasing the soft, squishy flesh of his cheeks. Keith’s butt was Shiro’s favorite butt in the entire world and now  _ he _ was able to touch it when he wanted. 

“Horndog,” Keith muttered, his eyes already shut. 

“Look, you gave me the kingdom keys and I’m a horny guy, what do you want?” Shiro teased.

Keith snorted and finally rolled over onto his back. “Suck my dick and we’ll talk.” 

Shiro grinned, leaning down to kiss him before sliding down between Keith’s thighs, placing them over his shoulders to wrap his lips around Keith’s cock again, sucking it until it was hard, the hood pulled back. “Fucking love this,” Shiro whispered, spreading Keith’s sex to dip his tongue inside to taste. 

Keith moaned and arched on the bed. “Fuck... Shiro,” he whispered. “Don’t stop-  _ God _ .” 

Shiro had no plans of stopping. He sucked and licked, his fingers going inside to work Keith all over until Keith was coming and slamming his thighs hard against his head. The sound of Keith’s orgasm was music to ears and the taste was heavenly on his tongue. His own cock hard against his hip where he slowly rolled his hips into the mattress to send shocks of pleasure down his legs. 

“Shhh,” Shiro whispered, kissing Keith’s fuzzy thigh. “My parents will hear you.”

“Fuck,” Keith whispered, clamping a hand over his mouth as he giggled. “Sorry.” 

Shiro sat up, with the full intention of fucking Keith again, when Keith’s eyes frowned and he slowly began to sit up, pushing Shiro back. “What?” Shiro asked. 

“What is that?” Keith asked, easing out of bed to walk over to Shiro’s computer. 

“What’s, what?” Shiro asked, turning to face him, cock flagging a little but a few tugs would bring him back to hard. “Keith?” 

“I thought I saw something blink,” Keith said, touching the computer but it remained turned off. 

“Like what?” 

“Like your fucking webcam, you perv,” Keith snapped.

“ _ What _ ? Keith, why would I do that? You think I just leave it on and record myself? Shit, what the fuck.” 

Keith pulled back from the computer and looked somewhere between ashamed and angry. “If you fucking record us fucking, I swear to God–.” 

“Keith, I would  _ never _ do that,” Shiro argued. “Why would I do that?”

“I don’t know... To share with assholes online who want to watch a fucking tranny get laid?” 

“Keith, c’mon, I’m not like that. I would  _ not _ do that to you and I don’t–. You’re a guy, okay? I see you as a guy because you’re the hottest guy I know. I’m so fucking gay for you and I swear, we’ll come out together on Monday, okay?” Shiro meant those words in the moment. He meant them so sincerely. 

“Okay,” Keith said slowly but he leaned over to shut Shiro’s laptop and then come back to bed, pulling him in for another kiss, letting Shiro slot his hips between his spreading thighs. “Make me scream, Shiro.”

Shiro smirked and kissed Keith again. 

 

* * *

  
  
  


_ “Shiro, I want to be your boyfriend more than anything but you have to be willing to come out.”  _

_ “I will, I want to. I’m tired of hiding.”  _

_ “Do you mean that?”  _

_ “Yes.”  _

_ “Swear it.” _

_ “I swear, Keith, I want to come out. I want to be with you.” _

 

“Shiro and Keith sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G.” 

"More like, F-U-C-K-I-N-G," someone else laughed.  


Shiro frowned as he slid out of his Jeep Monday morning, letting the door fall shut. He could hear his voice, tinny and clearly through a speaker. He approached the group who mocked him, snatching the phone out of their hands to  _ look _ . The color drained from his face as he stared at a video, clearly of him in Keith in his car Saturday night, admitting he wanted to come out, be Keith’s boyfriend, and followed by his hands in Keith’s pants. 

The guys were all cackling, some of them whistling, and cheering Shiro on. The video looped before anything serious happened but he watched himself say he wanted to be with Keith over and over, his heart falling out of his chest and onto the pavement beneath his feet. After spending the night with Keith, he’d taken Keith home early Sunday morning before his parents could wake up and had told himself he would come out but had yet to do so. 

In fact, he’d already changed his mind and had written Keith a letter to explain  _ why _ he was changing his mind and hoping Keith would be understanding. But the video had changed everything.

When Keith arrived, Shiro waited for him, his stomach in knots, his hands shaking, and feeling as if he were going to faint. Keith climbed out of his car, which Shiro noted was completely destroyed on one side, the paint job scratched and ruined so badly, the sight made him wince. 

“Hey,” Keith said, slowly approaching him. “What’s wrong?” 

Shiro held up his phone, which he’d kept on the video, plastered all over every single social media page he could find. “Did you do this?” he whispered. 

“ _ What _ ?” Keith snatched the phone, realizing the video was posted to  _ his _ timeline. Like he’d uploaded it. “No! Jesus- what the  _ fuck _ .”

The video posted by Keith, supposedly, simply stated as a caption: Garrison High Quarterback Gayest Fucking Fag which is what Keith had said Saturday night. “Why would you do that? Then accuse  _ me _ of recording us having sex? What the fuck is wrong with you, Keith? How did you even  _ do _ that, huh?” 

“Shiro, I  _ didn’t _ do this,” Keith said, shoving the phone back into his hand and pulling his own out to pull up Facebook himself. “I didn’t do that.” 

“It’s posted  _ by _ you,” Shiro hissed. “You do fucking realized my  _ parents _ have already fucking left me voicemails and now they… they  _ know _ … and… I wasn’t– I wrote you a letter yesterday, to give to you today, to  _ tell _ you that I wasn’t ready to come out but you don’t fucking  _ care _ about me, do you?”

Tears choked Shiro’s voice and he fished out the letter to throw in Keith’s face. Keith stumbled to catch it, almost smacking himself in the face with the envelope. 

“Shiro, I didn’t do this!” 

“Then  _ who _ did, huh? You telling me someone fucking recorded us and posted it on  _ your _ wall? Yeah, fucking right. You did it, you fucking somehow–.” 

“Shiro my phone wasn’t even  _ out _ . How could I have done this?” Keith asked. “I didn’t… I wouldn’t have  _ wanted _ to show this much of myself, why the  _ hell _ would you think I’d post this?! Someone fucking hacked my account, I can’t even get in.” 

His mouth was dry and he felt his chest restrict so much, he couldn’t even take a deep breath in. The idea of having to go into school, face his peers, was too much and he wasn’t sure he would want to ever go back to school again. Going home wasn’t an option either because his parents would immediately harass him and demand an explanation, which he had absolutely none. 

“Shiro, I don’t… I mean, I think I know how it happened but you’re going to call me crazy,” Keith said, still holding Shiro’s letter but he hadn’t opened it yet. 

“How?” Shiro demanded, feeling so wounded and cold. He wanted to bury himself six feet under, eat a bullet, and take himself out of the picture completely. His parents would never let him be gay and he would forever be a black stain on their family now. 

He was better off dead. 

“You believe in ghosts, right?” Keith asked slowly which was not the question he’d expected. 

“What?”

“Ghosts. You believe in them. Right? Spirits, ghosts, whatever.” 

He nodded dumbly. “Yes? I guess, why?” 

“Look, you’re going to think I’m crazy, okay? But ever since…. That summer… I’ve been able to talk to ghosts and spirits. See them. Hear them talk to me. I’ve been haunted by Lance for over a year now and lately, he's been acting out. The thing with my car? The mass text everyone got with that picture of… of me? That was all him.” 

Shiro blinked a few times, wondering if Keith had smacked his head on the way into school today. “You’re saying a  _ ghost _ recorded us? Are you fucking insane?”

Keith groaned in frustration. “I  _ know _ how it sounds, okay? I know. But I’m telling the truth, Shiro. Ghosts can possess objects and your phone was sitting on the dashboard of your car, playing music through your Bluetooth, right?” 

Shiro nodded slowly. “Yes.” 

Keith took a deep breath. “Lance recorded us. Lance posted it to my wall. Ghosts can do all kinds of weird shit. They can possess objects. He’s possessed my phone more than once and send texts to me. I bet if you check your phone, you’ll find the video.”

He didn’t want to believe it because it was all completely insane but Shiro swiped to his home page and looked for the videos on his phone and almost dropped the device on the ground. Staring back at him, like Keith had said, was the video posted supposedly by Keith. 

“Oh my God,” he whispered. 

“It’s there, isn’t it?” Keith asked quietly. “He’s doing this because he’s  _ mad _ . He’s angry with us because… He wants to rest, that’s what he keeps telling me.” 

Shiro recalled seeing Lance in the mirror at the restaurant and how he’d whispered something Shiro couldn't hear. How he kept appearing in mirrors, water, and windows. Any reflective surface. He’d thought he was losing his mind but apparently, ghosts  _ were _ real and Lance  _ was _ haunting them both. 

“What do we do?” Shiro asked quietly. 

“I don’t know,” Keith admitted with a  shrug. He looked so helpless. “But I don’t think he’s going to stop until we talk about what happened.” 

“We  _ can’t _ .”

“I know. I know. My uncles are cleansing my house so maybe it’ll all stop, okay? Just relax.” Keith squeezed Shiro’s shoulder and then pulled away. “Look, I’m really sorry it happened like this. You coming out but now it’s out so… are we still boyfriends or what?” 

Shiro swallowed and shoved his phone back into his pocket. If he were honest, he didn’t know because he didn’t know what was going to happen when he went home tonight. “I don’t know,” he said, slowly walking away. “I don’t know.” 

  
  


* * *

 

The Shirogane household was not a household of warmth, hugs, or overt affection. Never had it been the entire time Shiro had grown up around his parents but walking in after school that day felt like walking toward the gallows of his own funeral. The house was quiet and still, the breath before the plunge, and Shiro slowly walked back toward the kitchen where he was not surprised to find his father and mother sitting at the table. 

When his mother saw him, she started crying, and when his father saw him he stood up, tall, his back straight and firm. Shiro shrank backward and felt too afraid to enter the room but one sharp word from his father had him crossing over to stand in front of him, his eyes glued to the floor. 

“We did not raise you to be a liar, Takashi,” his father said, his voice sharp and cold. 

“I’m sorry… I didn’t know how to tell you,” he said, trying to stay firm and strong. 

“We did not raise you to be… like  _ this _ .” His father couldn’t even say the words  _ gay _ but Shiro hadn’t even still completely admitted it to himself yet. “That dirty boy turned you into this… this…. I can’t even say it. You should be  _ ashamed _ , you have brought dishonor to this house, to me, and to your mother.”

“I’m sorry, Father,” Shiro whispered, trying to keep the tears he wanted to shed back. “I’m really sorry I couldn't be a better son.”

The events unfolding next were events Shiro hadn’t expected. Hadn’t planned for or knew what to do in response. The sharp sting of his father backhanding him was a shock to his system and Shiro reached up to lightly touch his cheek, feeling his flesh flush red from the pain. 

“Father–.” 

“Do not speak,” his father snarled and smacked him again. This time the other cheek.    
Shiro fell back, ready to run from the room but his father grabbed his shirt collar and shoved him hard enough to knock the breath from his lungs into the wall to smack him again. The smacks quickly turned into punches, his father’s wedding ring catching him in the nose and lip, spittling the flesh and pouring blood down his face and chin. He was too shocked to fight back and his mother kept crying at the table but didn’t bother to stop her husband either. 

He could only shrink far down to the floor, cowering and covering his face, begging for forgiveness for being such a terrible son. The pain finally stopped when his father took a step back and told him to go upstairs and that he did not want to see Shiro again tonight. Shiro weakly stood up and dragged himself up to his room to shut the door, turning the lock, and falling onto his bed to let the tears wash out of him. The salt left a sharp sting in the wounds to his face but he didn’t have the energy to wipe them away.

The sound of something moving in his room made Shiro slowly turn his head and he stared at a rocking chair in the corner as it slowly rocked on its own. At first, Shiro thought it was only the vibrations of the house but then it never settled. The chair kept rocking, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, until the rocking grew so violent the chair tipped over and fell on its end. Shiro startled and sat up, pressing back into his headboard.

“Lance?” he called out timidly. “Stop it! Haven’t… Haven’t you done enough?” 

A book from his bookshelf flew off and landed hard on the floor. Shiro took a breath, ready to stand up and replace it but another book followed. They both thunked hard into the hardwood floor and then another and another until the floor was being pummeled with books. 

“Stop!” Shiro yelled, panic making his heart fly in his chest and blood rush in his ears. “Stop it!”

A cold breeze kissed his cheek and his closet’s hangers began to rattle and shake, followed by the shelves and boxes started to fall and crash to the ground. He yanked the blanket up to his chest, even though he had no idea what the would do against a malevolent spirit. The bookshelf, now empty of books, rattled as well, threatening to crash and fall down but he couldn’t stop it in time before it fell hard onto the floor, jarring Shiro’s bed. 

“Takashi!” he could hear his father call from downstairs. “What are you doing?” 

His window blew open next, bringing in a cold breeze, colder than it had been outside and his curtains blew so hard they ripped free and collided with his lamp, also knocking it over and breaking the bulb. Glass shattered and scattered across his floor. The sound of his parents coming upstairs followed, they continued to call his name but Shiro didn’t answer. 

He couldn’t. 

He felt trapped and so afraid, his bed and lap warmed and he realized too late he’d pissed himself. He whispered for Lance to  _ stop _ but his books and notebooks blew open with the wind, scattering pages all around his room, followed by more books. His dictionary flopped open, the pages rustling until it stopped and the room went so still, Shiro could only hear his parents banging on the door and his heart pounding.

Shaking, he slowly stood up and went to see which page the dictionary had stopped on. His hands were still shaking as he picked up the heavy book and let it land on his bed. 

 

**suicide / noun / sui - cide /** **\ ˈsü-ə-ˌsīd \**

 

  * ****The act or instance of taking one’s own life voluntarily and intentionally****


  * **Ruin of one’s own interests – see:** ** _social suicide_**



 

 

Shiro swallowed the lump forming in his throat and slammed the dictionary shut. “Not funny,” he whispered to the room. “You’re  _ not _ funny, Lance.” 

“Takashi! Open the door!” his mother begged. “ _ Please _ .”

Shiro looked at his door and debated on opening it and facing his parents or following Lance’s cruel suggestion. No one would miss him, especially not his parents. 

Maybe Keith.

Maybe Keith would miss him but with him gone, maybe Lance would go away. Leave Keith alone and things would return to normal. Another cold chill settled over Shiro’s body and he sank down by his bed to press his forehead to the bedding and cry. Growing up, he hadn’t been allowed to cry.

No signs of weakness in the Shirogane household.

“Please, Takashi,” this time his father said, his voice softer than Shiro had ever heard it. “Open the door.” 

He cried and sobbed, not realizing how loud he was until he heard his door rattle and shake violently. Probably from his father trying to break it down but the house’s doors were solid oak. They weren’t flimsy or simple to bust down without being trained on how to do it. He could hear his mother frantically telling his father to open the door and he wondered if they really did care. A little. 

Maybe a little. 

Was it more shameful to have a gay son or a dead one? 

Something clattered onto the floor and Shiro tore his eyes from the bedspread to see what Lance presented him with now. A pocket knife, one he always forgot to actually carry, presented like an offering. A gift to end his suffering.

Shiro reached over to pick up the blade and open it, staring at the shiny metal surface. He tilted it, trying to find Lance’s smug reflection but he didn’t see Lance. Lance wasn’t there.

Something else, however, was in his room. 

Chills ran down Shiro’s spine and he dropped the knife on the floor. It clattered and he drew in a shaky breath. Suddenly, he wished Lance was there and he wished Lance had done all of this. He wanted Keith and his insane uncles to come to his house and banish whatever he’d just seen from his room. 

“Takashi!” his father screamed, pounding on the door.

The room didn’t feel safe anymore and he stood and went to pry the door open, throwing himself out as fast as he could, almost tripping over both of his parents in his hurry.

“Takashi, what happened? Oh my God, you’re bleeding–.” His mother reached up to touch his face and Shiro pushed her backward. He turned to go into the bathroom across from his room and saw his nose had blood running from it, to match the scabbing split lip and the already dried blood on his face from earlier. 

When he looked in the mirror, over to his left, Lance stood still, a black hand wrapped around his face from the creature grinning, its long teeth in a horrifying grin. Too wide. Too big. Nothing should have that many teeth. 

Lance tried to break free of whatever held him still but he struggled and Shiro yanked his gaze away. His nose kept bleeding. 


	4. Chapter 4

Keith spent the day trying not to think about how the entire school had seen Shiro put his hand in his pants, even after deleting the video, the damage had already been done. On top of the stress of his car, his mom, and Lance’s body, by the end of the day, Keith was too tired to function. He felt guilty for blowing Pidge off at the end of the day but all he wanted to do was go home. 

When Keith pulled into the driveway, he noted his dad’s bike in the driveway; an unseen sight since last Wednesday. Maybe the hospital had finally released his mom. Keith went slowly into the house, unsurprised to find all of his uncles milling about, while his dad looked like an ostracized child banished to the living room while the adults had a conversation.

“Keith,” Krolia called and Keith hurried to the kitchen to hug her tightly. 

“Mom,” he whispered, refusing to let go, letting her pet his hair and squeeze. The hospital had kept her longer to make sure she was healing well but Keith suspected they were suspicious of her wounds. 

“I’m so happy to see you – Now, what is this I hear about your car?” Krolia asked, pulling him to sit at the table with her, Regris, and Ulaz. 

Kolivan was inspecting the sink and Antok scrubbing the kitchen floor by hand, presumably to remove the bloodstains occurred Wednesday night. Keith didn’t want to know how they knew how to remove blood stains. He sat down, noting Regris had his eyes closed and was currently running his fingers over various papers scattered across the kitchen table while Ulaz surveyed. 

“What is he doing?” Keith whispered, so as not to break Regris’ concentration. 

“He’s searching for information on the spirit,” Krolia whispered back. 

Keith frowned, a pang of alarm making his heart jump into his throat when he saw Regris had  _ his _ papers. “Hey!” he yelled and reached to snatch the papers up. 

“Keith!” Krolia said in surprise and disapproval. 

Regris startled from his trance, his milky eyes opening in surprise and alarm. “Keith,” he gasped before collapsing back against his seat. His body acted as a limp marionette and Antok, despite his size, moved quickly to be at his side, holding Regris up so he didn’t slip to the floor. The look of rage Antok turned his way should have been frightening but only angered Keith further.

“Who gave you permission to go through my things?” he demanded, anger and fear boiling beneath his skin. “My stuff is  _ not _ your business! I  _ hate _ when you assholes come here! Just a bunch of nosey charlatans!”

Krolia’s eyes widened at Keith’s outburst. “Keith! I did not raise you to be so disrespectful. Apologize to Regris.” 

The anger only crescendoed and Keith didn’t feel in control of his decisions. All he felt was rage and an unending anger buried deep inside of his soul. The urge to physically lash outgrew the longer he clutched his papers and glared at Regris’ sagging form. 

“Son,” Tex said as he wandered in, lacing a hand on Keith’s shoulder.

The touch felt as sharp and hot as a burn and the rage monster clawing its way out of his gullet took over. His vision went completely white and when he came back to the scene, he was staring at Antok’s chest and his arm was twisted painfully backward by his father.

“Drop the knife, son,” Tex said, his voice low. 

Keith’s eyes widened and he relaxed his hand enough until the blade clattered to the floor. Antok slowly withdrew from shielding Regris while Ulaz was dabbing Regris’ face and neck. Keith’s stomach twisted – there was blood on the towel Ulaz held to Regris’ face. 

The look of horror on his mother’s face matched how he felt inside. When his father released his arm, Keith backed out of the room and rushed upstairs to hide in his room and lock the door. The sounds of arguing floated upstairs to him and Keith sank helplessly to the floor to listen. 

“ _ He’s out of control _ ,” Antok snarled. 

“ _ I’m fine, Antok,  _ please _ – hardly a scratch _ ,” Regris replied, his tone surprisingly dismissive.

“ _ Calling us charlatans, attacking Regris… What else is next? Hm? _ ” Antok continued. Keith could practically see his rage. 

“ _ That wasn’t Keith _ ,” Kolivan said. “ _ Did you not feel the other presence _ ?”

Keith frowned, scanning the room for Lance but he was nowhere to be seen. Either Lance was hiding or something else haunted the house, too. 

_ “Yes _ ,” Regris said quietly. “ _ It was the angry spirit. I believe it fed off of Keith’s anxiety and fueled his anger. Made him feel what  _ it _ feels.”  _

“ _ Why would it do that _ ?” Krolia asked.

“ _ Why do spirits do anything _ ?” Regris countered. “ _ When they’re angry, they lash out and Keith was an immediate and easy target… I need to try and speak with it before we cleanse the house. See if we can figure out what it wants _ .” 

“ _ You ain’t holdin’ a spirit seance in my house with my kid in it _ ,” Tex snapped. “ _ No– Krols, don’t gimme that look _ .”

“ _ It’s important Tex _ ,” Krolia said softly. “ _ Keith is spirit sensitive, I think he’s accidentally brought this spirit here to the house. You and Keith can leave for the night–.”  _

“ _ No _ ,” Regris said.  _ “Keith must stay. His connection to the spirit realm is strong, especially to this spirit in particular. He stays _ .”

Silence fell on the room downstairs and Keith used the quiet as an opportunity to climb out onto the roof and sit quietly. The anger and rage he’d felt earlier left him exhausted to his bones. If Lance had temporarily possessed him, making Keith  _ feel _ his anger, he could see why Lance was acting out. The feelings had been beyond his control but the viciousness had to stem from  _ somewhere _ . 

Maybe he was bitter toward his uncles because they never called or visited enough. Maybe the skeptic buried inside had reared its ugly head. Either way, he’d said and done unforgivable things. The world’s darkest cloud stormed overhead on his already poor mood and Keith didn’t move from the roof until the sun started to set.

A clang against the side of the house startled him and he watched curiously as Kolivan’s head appeared as he climbed up a ladder. “Mind if I join you?” Kolivan asked. “Your door is locked.” 

“Sure,” Keith said with a disinterested shrug. A lecture wasn’t what he wanted but Keith was sure one was coming. 

“I am sorry about your car and how this trauma has happened to you, Keith… but know, we, as your family support and love you,” Kolivan started gently. “We accept you wholeheartedly as our great-nephew.” 

Kolivan’s kind words were the soothing balm for his soul he’d been searching for since the car incident. They burned tears in his eyes and when Kolivan opened his arm, Keith flocked eagerly to his side for comfort. 

“Thanks,” he said quietly. 

“I was speaking with Ulaz today and if you let us take it in, we will pay to have it fixed.”

Another kindness he hadn’t expected. “But that’ll be expensive–.” 

“A noble cause,” Kolivan replied. “We just want you to feel safe.” 

Keith teared up for the second time but some slipped down his face before he could stop them. “I don’t know what to say – I don’t deserve it after… earlier.”

“We are not angry for earlier.”

“Antok is.” 

Kolivan sighed. “You know Antok’s love for his husband is strong but he  _ loves _ you– and if he knew how much you were hurting, he would be the first to climb up here to cheer you.” 

Keith could concede that point – Antok had always favored him and brought him gifts and taught him to fight hand to hand. 

But he also couldn’t let go of the look of anger on and hatred in Antok’s voice from earlier. The thoughts plagued his mind and sat heavily on his shoulders. In the moment of hurting Regris – albeit accidentally – Antok had hated him and Keith wasn’t sure how to process what he had done on top of everything else he was dealing with. 

“I didn’t  _ mean _ to hurt Regris,” he whispered and slowly pulled away from Kolivan’s touch, feeling isolated and cold. “Please believe me, I didn’t even… I didn’t even  _ know _ it was happening. I don’t understand–.” 

“Regris and I believe the spirit possessed you for a moment. You felt its rage and its anger… and so you lashed out, not able to control your own body or emotions. Is that how you felt?” 

“Yes… You’re going to try to… to talk to the spirit?” he asked slowly. The idea of Regris speaking with Lance sent terror down his throat and wrapped its cold fingers around his heart to squeeze mercilessly. If his parents found out about last summer – the thought was too much. 

“Yes, Regris thinks it is imperative to speak with the spirit and try to help it rest,” Kolivan said with a nod. 

Keith withheld the urge to snort and roll his eyes because no matter what Regris did, Lance would never lay to rest. He refused. “Doubtful,” he muttered, more to himself than to Kolivan. 

“Hm?” 

“Nothing… Look, I’m sorry about what I did. Why do I have to stay here tonight? Can’t I go with Dad somewhere?” He didn’t want to be around when Lance was summoned just in case he decided to talk. 

“Regris also believes it is imperative you stay here,” Kolivan continued. “You have a  _ very _ strong connection to the spirit world, perhaps even stronger than Regris’. Have you ever… had dreams about ghosts? Or have you ever  _ seen _ one?”

He almost snorted again but kept his face clear of emotion. “I guess, I don’t know. Why?” 

“Just curious. You may be a stronger medium than Regris and that's quite impressive.” 

“It’s not something I  _ want _ , okay?” Keith snapped, this time the anger his own. “I don’t  _ want _ to talk to dead people or see them or deal with all of that. I’m already a fucking freak, okay?! I don’t  _ need _ that shit added on top of everything else I got fucking going for me!” 

Kolivan’s brows pinched together, making his scar scrunch under his eye. “What makes you say that?” 

“ _ Look _ at me! Look where we live! I’m the poor kid who has no friends, no life, and nothing going for me. On top of that, I’m… I mean… I’m– I’m  _ this _ . I’m trans or whatever.” He wrapped his arms around his legs tighter, pulling them to his chest. 

“None of those things make you a freak, Keith. You are a boy and we love you as a boy, no matter what society decided to deem you first. I know money has always been a struggle for this family but I think you know, in your heart, your family loves you and  _ that _ is what matters most. And your friend Pidge… yes? She was here a few days ago. You have friends and family and a house with a roof and running water. You have barn cats and cattle who love you… You have all of us,  _ including _ Antok and Regris.” Kolivan reached to place a hand on his shoulder to squeeze. “We love you, Keith.” 

Keith’s eyes watered and once again, he leaned into Kolivan’s affection, hugging his side tightly. “I’m sorry I’m such a mess.” 

“You’re young and young people tend to be a bit messier,” Kolivan replied with a chuckle, petting Keith’s hair back softly. “There is nothing to forgive.” 

“....Is Regris  _ really _ going to hold a seance downstairs?” 

Kolivan chuckled again. “How about you come and watch?” 

Dread returned to Keith’s core. “Do I have a choice?” 

“Not this time.” 

“ _ Great _ .” 

“Come downstairs, it’s getting dark, and Regris will want to do this soon,” Kolivan began to ease himself back down the ladder but Keith chose to go back through his bedroom window to collect his breathing and thoughts. Lance hadn’t told Regris anything before, maybe he wouldn’t say anything tonight either. 

Maybe Regris could help Lance. Maybe the nightmare would end soon. 

When Keith came back downstairs, Regris and the others were arranging the kitchen table with a black tablecloth, candles, and some other tools Keith assumed were just for show. No spirit board but Keith assumed that was due to Regris being blind and he wasn’t even sure spirit boards were legitimate anyway. 

“We cannot have any skeptics here, Krolia, you must dismiss your husband or tell him to start believing,” Regris was saying while he finally sat down at the table. Everyone else fluttered around him, taking hands. 

Keith stood off to the side, unsure of what to do but he didn’t want to  _ see _ this. “Do I have to be here?”

“Ah, Keith, I am glad you came. Yes, please, join us.” Regris gestured for Keith to sit and he had no choice but to sit down while his mother went to speak with his father.    
Tex argued for a while but then said he would go stand outside and be back when they were done. Krolia returned and finally, everyone was at the table. The room had been darkened and candles lit about the room while Regris sat at the head of the table, his hands being held by Antok and Ulaz. Keith slowly slipped his hands into his mother’s and Antok’s. Nerves ran their icy breath down his neck and he wondered if it were Lance, already chomping at the bit to tell his story but the chill wasn’t the same as Lance’s cold. 

“Everyone, close your eyes,” Regris said quietly. “Envision yourself in warm light, it will keep you safe from the spirits we summon here tonight.” 

Keith gulped and prayed his hands didn’t start to shake. 

“Are you ready, Kolivan?” Regris asked and Kolivan nodded. “Good, I may not remember this.” 

Keith wanted to throw up, his nerves and fear twisted his stomach so hard he felt nauseous. Kolivan was the only one outside of the circle, holding a notebook in his lap. Keith didn’t know what that  _ meant _ but he tried to keep his focus on Regris and whatever was about to happen. The room went still and quiet until Regris’ eyes opened and Keith startled, almost yanking out of the circle at seeing his white, unseeing eyes. 

“Is there anyone here tonight?” Kolivan asked to the room and Keith wanted to sink and slither into the floor. 

The light over the kitchen table began to swing and Keith’s eyes slowly followed the small creaking of the chain attached to the ceiling, his heart starting to gallop hard in his chest. He’d never known Lance to move objects but he supposed there was a first time for everything. 

“Yes,” Regris whispered but his voice wasn’t his voice and it wasn’t Lance’s voice, either. His voice deepened to a rumble and the somber sound made Keith’s skin break into cold sweats. 

“Are you the one haunting the house? Harming the family who lives here?” 

Regris laughed – a short and sharp cackle, so inhuman, the group startled. “A few dead cows and cut wrists? What do you take me for? A child?” 

The words sounded so cold and dark, they made Keith pant, as if he had just run a marathon. The light over their heads continued to swing and then the cabinets started to rattle. Krolia and Antok looked around the room and Keith could see Antok squeezing Regris’ hand hard enough to turn Regris’ hand white. 

They were afraid. 

“No, that little fool isn’t here tonight. I am,” Regris continued. 

“Who are you?” Kolivan asked. 

The cabinet containing their plates flew open, followed by crashing plates as they fell out of the cabinet on their own. The loud crashing of breaking glass and the harsh drop of plastic made everyone jump again but no one refused to pull away from the circle. Keith swallowed the lump in his throat, his hands definitely shaking now in his mother’s. 

Regris began to laugh again, his shoulders shaking with the effort, his face contorted and twisted in the dim candlelight until Keith could hardly recognize him at all. 

“Maybe we should stop,” Antok whispered but Regris turned his head sharply as if he could see. 

“Stopping so soon? But the party’s  _ just _ begun,” Regris hissed which broke into more maniacal laughter. 

The room’s temperature dropped dramatically and Keith began to shiver, his breath coming out in white puffs as he started to shake all over. More plates and glasses began to fall out of opening cabinet doors and the table started to shake and rattle. The light overhead continued to swing, growing more violent in nature. The candles flickered dangerously and the window above the kitchen sink burst open, allowing more cold wind to blow into the room. 

“Who are you?” Kolivan repeated. 

Regris went quiet and his body appeared rigid, staring at the table for a moment and Keith wondered if it were over but a gust of wind made Regris’ body jerk and he slammed back against his chair so hard Keith was certain he’d heard bones crack. 

“Who are you?” Kolivan asked one more time but there was a nervousness to his voice not there the first two times. 

“ _ Haxus _ ,” Regris gasped. 

“What do you want?” 

Keith wasn’t sure he wanted to know what the spirit wanted. He wasn’t sure  _ any _ of them wanted to know but the question was asked and Regris began to grin; his smile grew so wide, Keith could see his lips splitting and bleeding down his chin. The sight made him shudder and shut his eyes. He didn’t want to be here anymore.

“Look at me,  _ boy _ ,” Regris growled and Keith’s eyes flew back open. “Yes, he will do.” 

“What do you  _ want _ ?” Kolivan asked again, patience slowly leaving his voice. 

Regris laughed again and then the room went dark. Keith gasped and the hands once holding his were no longer there. He was alone in the kitchen. It was so dark he could hardly see the chair in front of him. The one Regris used to occupy but he no longer sat there – no, something else sat there. 

Dark and long-limbed, a shadow creature, almost humanoid but it contained too many teeth. It smiled, its widening grin making Keith’s cheeks hurt. The eyes were red, glowing softly in the darkened room. Everything smelled of smoke and fire. The creature laid its hand on the table, its fingers containing too many joints and is claws fractured and sharp. 

“ **Hello, boy,** ”  Haxus whispered. 

Keith shivered and shut his eyes, wanting the image to disappear.  _ This isn’t real, this isn’t real, this isn’t real _ . 

_**I can do that, too.** _

Keith swallowed a lump forming in his throat and slowly opened his eyes to stare Haxus in the face. “What do you want with me?” 

“ **It’s not what I want, boy, it’s what** She **wants**.” 

“Who?” 

“ **You haven’t met. Yet. You will**.”

“Leave my family alone,” Keith growled, daring to place his hands on the table, digging his nails into the wood until they screamed with the pain. “You aren’t welcome here.” 

“ **Your** **_family_ welcomed me in. Invited me, even. Next time, I would tell your charlatan to _specify_** **which spirit he wishes to speak with. Now, there are consequences**.” 

Keith bared his teeth in anger, leaping forward out of his seat to lean in close to the spirit, daring to breathe in its stench of acrid smoke and rot. “Fuck off, asshole.” 

Haxus laughed and Keith withdrew slightly.  “ **This is why she Chose you. So…** **_brave._ Full of… ** _**life**.”  _

“What are you  _ talking _ about?” Haxus spoke in riddles and backward circles. Nothing made sense. He just wanted to go back to his kitchen with his family. 

“ **She will come for you soon. Submit and things will go easy for you and your** **_friends_ ** **.** ” 

“My friends?” 

“ **The boy. The boy you** **_love_ ** **.** ” 

_ Shiro _ . 

Keith grabbed the knife he kept on his person and dared to press the blade to Haxus’ throat which only made the spirit (demon?) laugh more, throaty and cold. Long, clawed fingers wrapped around his wrist and squeezed until he had to drop the blade from pain. He winced but couldn’t pull free. 

“ **Or maybe, I’ll just have you for** **_myself_ ** **,** ”  Haxus snarled, his teeth glimmering with saliva as a long tongue slithered from his maw and traced Keith’s cheek. At contact, however, Haxus screeched and pulled back, releasing Keith’s wrist. 

Keith fell back into his seat again and as he hit the chair, the room filled with light and everyone was crowding around him with alarmed faces. The only one not staring at him was Regris. Haxus was gone, the lights were on, and the candles were completely blown out. 

“Keith,  _ Keith _ ,” Krolia gasped, her hands patting his face. “Oh my God–.” 

“Mom, stop– I’m fine.” Keith pushed everyone back and tried to take in what had happened. A sharp stab of pain made him gasp and he glanced down to see his wrist and forearm were burned black. “ _ Ow _ .” 

“We’re taking you to the ER,” Krolia said firmly but Keith didn’t want to go to the emergency room. He’d had his fill of hospitals last week. 

“Mom, I’m fine,” he said again but he wasn’t so convinced. The pain in his arm was so severe, his body was coated in sweat and he felt extremely lightheaded. When he glanced to Regris again, his uncle was staring blankly at the table but Keith supposed he may not even realize he was looking down and not at the group. 

“Call an ambulance, Krolia,” Kolivan said softly, his hand going to cup Keith’s cheek as he studied his eyes. “Keith, do you know where you are?”

“ _ Yes _ , I’m at the house. What happened?”

“We think… We’re not sure what happened,” Kolivan admitted quietly. “You went… We think you had a seizure.” 

Keith blinked a few times, having not expected to hear about having a seizure. “I… I was talking to Haxus. We were still in the kitchen. Everyone was gone, though. It was dark.” 

“It pulled you into the spirit realm,” Regris said, his voice flat. “It… It wanted to speak to you. It kept telling me to call you out. It was… insistent.” 

“Why would it want to speak with my son?” Tex demanded, his hand falling onto Keith’s shoulder while Krolia spoke to 911.

“I’m not sure,” Regris admitted, his face full of guilt. “I am very sorry, Keith, this is my fault. If I hadn’t insisted you stay… insisted we  _ do _ this… You could have been killed and I am very sorry.” 

Hearing Regris  _ tell _ him Haxus had taken him into the spirit realm was the kind of thing he’d only ever expected to hear in dreams. Seeing the guilt on his uncle’s face made him feel sorry for Regris – they had always had the most strained relationship growing up and now the divide seemed even larger than before. Keith opened his mouth to say something, anything, to Regris to offer him comfort but the sound of ambulance sirens coming down the street made him think better on it. 

Later. 

He would talk to Regris, later. 

 

* * *

  
  


The look on the EMT’s faces when they saw the severe burn on Keith’s arm was similar to the look on the doctor’s faces. The medical professionals hovered around him, all of them speechless, while the main burn surgeon inspector his flesh. They all seemed dumbfounded. 

“The EMT’s said you had a possible seizure?” The doctor asked, being gentle with Keith’s arm as he assessed the damage. 

He pain had subsided with whatever they’d administered on arrival and seeing the doctor scrape the blackened flesh away reminded him of burnt toast, not a third-degree burn. 

“I guess,” he said. 

“Do you know what happened to your arm?”

“No.”

“Hm- I’ve never seen anything like this. The outer epidermis is black but the layers beneath, at most, are second degree burnt more than likely first degree.”

“It hurts really bad earlier,” Keith said and cringed when blackened flesh was peeled away and dumped in a metal tray to reveal bruised but hardly burnt skin beneath. More mike s sunburn. 

The bruise on his arm seemed more Congress ring and Keith assumed was the source of most of the pain. Similar to the pain experienced when he broke his arm in sixth grade. He’s almost fainted earlier but now it was more of a dull throbbing. 

“How is the pain now?” The doctor asked while peeling more skin away. 

“Dull.”

“And you’re not sure how you were injured?”

“My family didn’t hurt me,” Keith said sharply at the look on the nurse’s faces. “My parents would rather die than hurt me.”

“I didn’t say they did-“

“You didn’t have to.” Keith hated trying to lie but the truth would only land him in the psych ward with a Thorazine drip. 

The room went quiet afterward and the doctor worked to clean Keith’s arm and spect it for further damage. The burn was classified as no more harm than a sunburn even if the bruising to his arm indicated broken bones without there being any. Since Keith was eighteen, the hospital contacted the police but without Keith pressing charges, nothing could be done.

The only thing he could do was wait while they put him through neurological and stimulus testing. The hours spent in the emergency room ticked on until he was finally cleared and released close to five in the morning. 

“We’ll call you off from school,” Krolia promised on the way home in his dad’s truck. 

Keith didn’t reply, just stared out the window and watched the city turn into the countryside. None of his uncles had asked him about his conversation with Haxus. Part of him felt thankful for minimal prying questions but he was also still too afraid to his eyes and go to sleep. Part of him wanted them to ask, so he could lay it off of his chest but they wouldn’t understand. 

The house felt disjointed and raw when they arrived. The kitchen was still a mess – like a large wound as a living reminder of the night prior. Keith went upstairs, feigning exhaustion when in reality he’d never been more awake. Even his room felt foreign and tainted. Haxus left a bad taste in his mouth, and his body and spirit feeling violated. 

The bruise on his arm left a deep ache down to the bone and he wasn’t sure how to explain anything to Pidge or Shiro. 

Not that Shiro would care.

He hadn’t heard from Shiro since yesterday morning, despite sending multiple texts to check up on him. He knew what it was like to have a ghost invade his privacy and spread his business all over school. Keith glanced at his phone to check the time and debated on going over there. Driving his car felt out of the question but if he rode his bike to Shiro’s house, he may not make it before Shiro went to school. 

Keith toyed with the idea of waiting until the end of the day before rolling out of bed, grabbing his car keys, and sneaking out onto the roof and down the neighboring tree. He’d parked his eyesore of a car in the yard to make room for his uncles’ trucks which gave him an easier getaway to the road by the house. He was gone before anyone could notice. 

The morning, still so early, left the roads empty and still. Keith rolled the windows down to create a sense of realness to the surreal scene of the foggy, empty town. He took his time, following back roads until he came to Shiro's house. The Shirogane mansion stood tall and shrouded in a layer of mist, adding to its intimidating visage. 

The clock on his dash told him it was almost six, meaning Shiro would be out for his morning jog soon. Like clockwork, the door opened at six and Shiro stepped out, dressed in sweats and running shoes. Keith watched Shiro stretch before jerking out of the mesmerizing sight to open the car door. The sound drew Shiro’s attention and they made contact for a minute, neither moving.

Keith braced himself to cross the street but Shiro beat him to it and closed the gap. They stood barely a breath apart, Keith could feel Shiro’s breathing and the way his heart beat rapidly in his chest. 

“Good morning?” Keith said slowly, backed up against the side of his car. He had no choice but to look up at Shiro or be confronted by his thick chest. Anyone other than Shiro would have made him nervous, being so close, but he trusted Shiro. 

“Morning,” Shiro said and seemed to realize they were too close and took a step back. “Sorry.” 

As the sun started to rise, casting gray light over the neighborhood, Keith could see Shiro’s lip was bloodied and split. The side of his face was also painted with purple and red bruises. 

“What the hell happened to your face?” Keith asked. 

“My father.” The words fell out of Shiro’s mouth flat like a dead animal littered across the ground. 

“Holy shit,” Keith whispered. He reached up to ghost his fingers over Shiro’s cheek and temple, too afraid to touch him fully. The bruised flesh radiated heat and Keith suddenly felt guilty for being upset Shiro hadn’t contacted him. 

“Keith– your arm!’ Shiro’s eyes widened in alarm while he cradled Keith’s arm like glass. “What  _ happened _ ? Christ, it looks like you broke it.”

“I’m fine,” he said quickly. “It’s… hard to explain.” 

Shiro raised an eyebrow at the change in tone. “Want to go for a drive?” 

“What about school?” 

“Fuck school.” 

Never in a million years would Keith have thought Shiro would have wanted to blow off school. Not even for him.  _ Especially _ not for him.

“How cavalier of you,” Keith teased but the idea of spending the day with Shiro, beyond prying eyes, reminded him of the days they’d been close. He missed those days. 

“Is that a yes?” Shiro asked. “Because I have to tell you something important.” 

Shiro’s voice turned gravely serious and Keith realized this wasn’t about them just hanging out. “Okay – do you want to drive?” 

“Yeah.”

Keith nodded. They crossed the street to Shiro’s Jeep and Keith flinched at the sight of the crows. The smell reminded him of Haxus and he wondered if they were one in the same.

“What?” Shiro asked when they both slid into the car. 

“What?” Keith parroted. 

“You got this look on your face.” Shiro gestured to his own face. “Like you’re scared.” 

Weighing the outcomes of telling Shiro the truth versus lying made him wonder if this was how Ma’at and Osiris felt weighing the feather and heart. Did the old gods ever feel tired of carrying such a burden? Did they ever doubt their judgments?

“Keith.” 

When Keith flicked his gaze to Shiro’s, he wished to be Osiris – passing judgment on souls seemed infinitely easier than telling Shiro the truth. No one ever prepared you for telling your best friend they were going to die.

“Just drive, Shiro,” Keith said. “And tell me what’s bothering you.” 

“I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.” 

A large black raven landed heavily on the hood of Shiro’s Jeep. Keith watched it tap the glass on the windshield and knew only he could see the harbinger. Shiro didn’t know of his impending death and Keith had no idea how to tell him. 

“Just drive,” he whispered. 

Shiro paused, acting like he wanted to argue further but must have decided against it because they were pulling out of the driveway and hitting the road. The drive was quiet, even with the radio on, neither of them spoke as they drove out to the highway. Keith didn’t ask where they were going because he didn’t care. If Shiro were taking him somewhere private to murder him, at least then, the nightmare would be over. 

No more spirits. 

No more heavy burdens. 

Just endless nothing.

They pulled off of the highway in an area Keith didn’t recognize at first until he saw the signs for Lake Okarian. They used to come here as kids, Keith and Shiro chattering away in the back of Tex’s truck but he hadn’t been back in years. The campground was empty this time of year but that only meant the beach would be all theirs – almost romantic if not for the impending stories of ghosts and death. 

The lake stretched on for miles, turning into a small channel leading directly into the ocean. They had plenty of space to sprawl. Rocks and sand blended for the stereotypical Pacific Northwest beach experience. They walked the shoreline until they came on a graveyard of bleached driftwood. Shiro climbed on top of the tangled limbs to sit, while Keith remained standing by the carnage. The sky was quickly turning black with the threat of storms and the wind whipped whitecaps on the lake. 

Neither of them spoke. 

The crows settled all around the driftwood and beach, some landing on Shiro’s shoulders. The large raven came to rest closest to Keith, staring at him curiously. Keith returned the stare, studying the raven’s milky eyes and dirty feathers. The black beak slick with an unknown fluid and is talons dug hard into the wood, scarring the exterior. 

“Keith,” Shiro said, his voice heavier than any eighteen-year-old golden boy’s should be. “There’s something in my house.” 

Keith frowned and finally tore his gaze from the bird to meet Shiro’s concerned gaze. “What are you talking about?” 

“AFter my dad…. I went to my room and my stuff started to fly around the room, which I know sounds crazy. I thought it was Lance but I saw  _ it _ in the bathroom mirror and it  _ had _ Lance hostage. It had… so many teeth,” Shiro said, the last bit a whisper Keith almost didn’t hear. 

“Teeth?” he asked, immediately on alert. “Did it look humanoid but… creepier?” 

“Yeah,” Shiro said slowly. “Have you seen it?”

“I think my uncles accidentally summoned it during a seance,” he admitted, even if he knew he sounded crazy. “It… it wanted me – said “she” had plans for me but I don’t know what that means.” 

“Holy shit,” Shiro whispered. “It hasn’t been back but Keith… I’m really scared – what if it’s a demon or–.” 

“It’s not a demon,” Keith said. “It’s an ancient, malevolent spirit, probably being used by a necromancer or witch.” 

“Those are  _ real _ ?”

“Most things are…. It was really angry at my house and Lance hasn’t been around. My uncles are cleansing my house today. They could probably cleanse yours.”

“My parents work all day so it might not be a bad idea,” Shiro admitted. “Is that what happened to your arm?” 

Keith glanced at the bruising and nodded. “Yeah,” he whispered trying to banish the memories but they were too fresh. “It all happened last night.” 

Shiro’s eyebrows went up and he picked his way back down until he could sit and be eye level with Keith. “Are you okay?” 

“I could ask you the same,” Keith said quietly, his eyes flicking over Shiro’s lower lip. 

“You have the prettiest eyelashes,” Shiro whispered which was not the reaction he’d expected. “So long and thick.” 

Keith went to crack a ‘that’s what she said’ joke while his cheeks burned to the third degree but his mouth quickly became hostage to Shiro’s. The kiss took him aback but the pure desperation in the gesture melted any resolve. Keith leaned into the kiss as much as he could with the driftwood stopping his ability o clamber onto Shiro’s lap. When Shiro pulled back, Keith chased his mouth, still desperate for more. 

“I’m sorry,” Shiro whispered. “I’m sorry I hid you like some shameful secret. I– I let popularity and my parents get to my head. You deserve someone better than me.” 

“I  _ only _ want you,” Keith said, cupping Shiro's face in his hands. 

“Why? After everything I’ve done…” 

“We’ve been through a lot together, Shiro. We’ve… been through hell and I know after last summer, you thought your life was over. I know I thought mine was… but we’re still here and I’m tired of letting you go.” 

Shiro clasped his hands gently around Keith’s wrists. “We make quite the pair, don’t we?”

“Will you be my boyfriend, you stubborn ass?” Keith asked. 

Shiro chuckled. “Yeah, I will… Just, can we  _ please _ not flaunt it in front of my parents? I–I’m afraid of what my father will do.” 

“Okay.” 

“Now, will you tell me what’s bothering you? Or is it just the not-demon thing?” Shiro moved his hands to hold Keith’s face for a moment before settling his arms across his knees. 

“It’s… part of a long story.” 

“We have all day.” 

“It involves  _ that _ night.” 

Shiro took in a sharp breath but nodded. “All ears, Keith.” 

Keith sighed and finally sat down, shoving his cold hands into the pockets of his jacket. “After that night, when we agreed to part ways, I started seeing ghosts.” 

“Ghosts… you mean…?” 

“At first, it wasn’t just Lance,” he whispered. “I saw random spirits and then Lance started hanging around but it’s not the only thing.” 

Shiro frowned. “What?” 

“I can see when people are going to die.” 

The words felt like a crash he had no power to stop. The truth was catching up and he had to tell Shiro – warn him. Maybe, they could prevent the inevitable together.

Shiro’s frown deepened, pulling lines along his forehead in confusion. “What do you mean?” 

Keith slowly turned to face Shiro and the black crows shrouding him. “When people are going to die by the end of the year, I see harbingers – birds. Crows...they flock to that person and surround them. The first time I saw it, it was our old English teacher. She was just covered in birds, so many fucking birds, and then she died a week later.” 

“Christ,” Shiro swore. “Why do I get the feeling you’re sharing this for a reason?” 

Keith nodded, staring helplessly. Tears burned his eyes and distorted his vision. The truth remained lodged in his throat and Keith suddenly knew the burden of old gods.

“It’s me, isn’t it?” Shiro whispered. “I’ve got… I mean, you can see the birds, right?” 

He could only nod, overwhelmed with helpless crying. Shiro tried to smile and be brave but he looked so pale against the dark sky. Thunder echoed dangerously. 

“Do you know how I die?” Shiro asked quietly. 

“No,” Keith said, filled with frustration as he wiped his face clear of tears. “I just know it’s violent. I keep having dreams about it but none of them make sense.” 

Shiro took in a sharp gasp of air. “Oh… I mean… it’s only fitting, I guess.” 

“Shiro, no,  _ don’t _ say that–.”

Shiro launched to the beach and kicked rocks as the wind picked up violently. “I deserve that, Keith, after what I did? Lance  _ finally _ gets his vengeance!”

Keith stared at Shiro’s back, watching the wind toss his hair and shirt. The air was cold and Keith zipped up his jacket for warmth but the gesture did nothing. Vengeance isn’t what Lance wanted. He just wanted to rest.

“Shiro, it was  _ accident _ ,” Keith reminded him, stepping closer. “If Lance were here right now–.” 

“He isn’t, Keith!” Shiro turned to face him and the blatant fear in Shiro’s eyes was palpable. “He’s  _ dead _ and that’s on  _ me _ . I deserve to die for what happened.” 

Keith drew in a steadying breath. “Shiro, Lance was your  _ friend _ and it was the wrong place at the wrong time. An accident. He’d understand that if he were here.” 

Shiro bowed his head and his shoulders trembled as he fought his emotions. The storm drew closer, rumbling distantly. Flashes of lightning lit up the horizon. 

“I dream about it every night,” Shiro whispered. “I dream about him dying.” 

“I do, too.” 

“It’s on me… what happened… It’s on me.”

Thunder roared so loudly, Keith startled and his gaze turned to just behind Shiro. Lance stood on the beach, dripping and his face twisted in anger. Keith moved his eyes back to Shiro, placing a heavy hand on his shoulder. 

“Shiro, I won’t let you die. We’re going to figure this out together, okay? My uncle Regris will know what to do about my premonitions. He has them all the time. I’ll talk to him and maybe we can  _ prevent _ this from happening.” 

Shiro shook his head, looking out onto the lake, tears streaking his face and his eyes rimmed red. “I deserve this, Keith. My penance.” 

“No,” Keith said firmly, shaking his head. “Don’t talk like that. Nothing bad is going to happen to you.” 

Shiro turned his eyes back on him and Keith could see the trust and worry inside the gray pools. They caught light the way stars did and Keith never wanted to see them fade. He loved Shiro and he would do anything to keep Shiro safe. 

“I want to believe that,” Shiro whispered. “But you said you saw it yourself. I’m going to die, Keith.”

“ _ No _ .” Keith shook his head and grabbed Shiro’s hands to hold, despite his own being ice cold. “No, Shiro, you  _ aren’t _ going to die. I– I  _ love _ you and I won’t lose you. No.”

“Keith–.”

“I said  _ no _ .” Keith gave Shiro a sharp look and squeezed his hands tightly. “Just trust me, okay?” 

“Okay.” 

“I’ll talk to Regris, he’ll know what to do… Do you want to come back with me? To my house? You haven’t been in… a really long time.” Keith released Shiro’s hands but then changed his mind and grasped them again. He wanted to hold onto Shiro and make sure everything was real. He wanted to hold onto their reality just a little while longer. 

Shiro nodded. “Let’s go talk to Regris.” 

Keith slid his arm around Shiro’s waist as they started to walk back toward the car. The feeling of Lance following them left him cold. 

> _ Confess. _

 

* * *

  
  


Shiro drove Keith back to pick up his car and followed each other out to Keith’s house. By the time they reached the house, the storm was raging hard with the wind blowing the rain sideways and they had to run into the house to escape the torrential downpour. 

“Shit,” Shiro gasped once they were inside, dripping all over the front entryway. 

“Keith Kogane!” Krolia snapped as Keith and Shiro blew into the room. She appeared at the end of the hall, stalking up to them, her face a mask of anger until she saw Shiro and softened a bit. “Takashi, it is good to see you… Keith,  _ where _ have you been? You no longer answer the phone when your mother calls you?” 

“I’m sorry, Mom, I had to go talk to Shiro about something,” Keith said, trying to look innocent as he stared at her with big eyes. “Is Uncle Regris here?” 

“Yes, he’s here. He’s sitting in the living room because we won’t let him go back out to the trailer in this storm. Takashi, would you like something to drink or eat?” Krolia asked and Shiro nodded, immediately taking his shoes and wet socks off before following her to the kitchen. 

Keith sighed. He’d almost forgotten how close Shiro was to his mom and how well they seemed to get along. Pushing the thoughts aside, Keith went out to the living room to find Regris. His uncles were all sitting around the television, watching the weather radar. His father was standing in the kitchen with his mom and Shiro which made him internally sigh. His parents lived to embarrass him, so he was certain they would soon whip out stories Shiro had missed. 

“Regris?” he asked, slowly walking up to where Regris sat in a chair, his hands still on his lap. He was looking at the television but Keith knew he couldn’t see anything. “I need to talk to you. In private.” 

Regris blinked and stood up like he were on autopilot. He took Regris’ arm and led him back down the hall to his dad’s office which had become more of a storage room than anything else but it would at least give them some privacy. 

“I know you feel guilty about what happened to me,” Keith said, immediately jumping into everything unsaid between them. “I know you feel responsible.”

“I was responsible, Keith.” 

Keith knew this – he knew it was Regris’ fault any of this had happened but he also knew Regris would never mean him any bodily harm. Despite their relationship being strained, Keith didn’t hate his uncle. He wasn’t angry for what had happened, in fact, he was almost glad for the insight. Maybe now, he had more information to help Shiro. 

“I didn’t ask you to talk to me to discuss this, I just wanted to tell you something important. I need your help,” Keith said quickly, pushing them beyond the Haxus incident. “I can see when people are going to die. I can see harbingers. I have dreams about their deaths… and Shiro is in danger. I need your help to figure out what my premonitions mean.”

Regris’ eyes grew wide for a moment. “You can see harbingers?” he repeated softly. “You have the gift of foresight.” 

“I don’t want Shiro to die, I want to try to stop it from happening. Is that possible?” Keith asked. “You always said that a psychic’s visions weren’t always true.” 

“Yes but foresight is very different,” Regris whispered, starting to pace the room a little, feeling it out so he didn’t trip. “I’ve only ever met one person with your gifts before.” 

“Who?”

“It was many years ago. I don’t even remember her name but it drove her mad. Seeing all of the people dying around her. She ended up taking her life,” Regris said which left Keith feeling extremely unsettled. 

“Is there a way to stop Shiro from dying? He’s too young– it’s not  _ fair _ .” Keith didn’t bring up how he had finally just convinced Shiro to take their relationship to a new level because it would sound selfish. He wanted Shiro to live not just for him but because he had his whole life ahead of him. 

Regris paused and seemed helpless. “Keith, I am sorry, I am not sure I have the answers to your questions. Anything is possible but I cannot know for certain if you can stop the death from occurring. I will… speak with someone I know, perhaps. She may be able to help you more than I can.” 

“ _ Please _ . I need to figure this out, I can’t let him die if I can stop it,” Keith said fiercely. 

Regris turned at the sound of his voice, looking guilty and grim still. “Keith,” he whispered softly. “Those who have foresight are usually those touched by death very personally… May I ask, which events triggered this gift for you?” 

The room felt cold and Keith glanced Lance in his peripheral vision, standing too close, breathing and then placing a cold hand on Keith’s shoulder. The water dripped and pooled on the floor until Keith’s feet felt unsteady. He wondered if Regris could see Lance, now. 

“No,” Keith whispered. “I can’t tell you.” 

“Why?” 

“Because I can’t. It’s not my secret to tell.”

> _ Tell him. Confess.  _

“I see,” Regris said quietly. “Does it have to do with the boy?”

> _ Tell him. Tell him. Tell him. Tell him. Tell him. Tell him. Tell him the truth. Admit it. Admit it. Admit it. Admit it. Admit it. Admit it.  _

Keith shut his eyes and tried to stay strong in his resolve. Regris could never find out. No one could ever find out. “Which boy?” he whispered, feigning ignorance.

“The murdered boy,” Regris replied. “They're starting an investigation soon.” 

Dread settled across Keith’s shoulders and he tried to stay upright, reaching out to place a hand on a nearby bookshelf. “Investigation?” he whispered. 

“Yes. They suspect the missing boy was murdered.” 

Keith had to tighten his grip on the bookshelf to keep from collapsing to the floor. He was going to be sick or faint, he wasn’t sure which. “Oh my God,” he whispered. 

“Keith?” Regris reached his hand out but they weren’t close enough to touch. “What is it? Do you know something about this boy?” 

> _ Tell him.  _

Keith shut his eyes and swallowed a bout of bile back down his throat. “Shiro and I… we did something bad,” he whispered, his voice shaking with the fear he felt dredge up inside. 

“What did you do?” Regris asked, sounding as nervous as Keith felt. 

Keith looked over at Lance, saw the smirk on Lance’s face and his arm suddenly screamed with pain just like when he’d first looked at the blackened burn. He wanted to scream. 

“Keith? What did you do?” 

The truth was a dangerous thing to admit to anyone other than Shiro. The truth was a dangerous thing to admit to anyone at all. The truth was a dangerous thing. 

“Keith? Please, I only wish to help you,” Regris whispered. “But you must tell me what happened.”   
  
Tears slowly started to track down Keith’s face and he slowly sank to the floor, sitting in Lance’s puddle. The water left him even colder as he rocked back and forth. “We killed him,” he whispered, his voice cracking and breaking. “We  _ killed  _ him.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have no idea how seances really work just go with me on this

**Author's Note:**

> Come yell at me on [tumblr](http://pining-sheith.tumblr.com/)


End file.
